Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell
by EvilEatingSanta
Summary: Fayt and Albel end up traveling together duh after Sophia loses her mind :. FaytxAlbel pairing. Spoilers. Title from a song by The Flaming Lips.
1. The Losing of a Mind

Umm...Hi everybody! This is my first story, go me! Rock. Yes, this is a FaytxAlbel...no nothing particularily slashy about it yet. And forgive me if I'm not up with the "fanfiction lingo"...or whatever. Anyways, please read, review, and enjoy!

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Sophia didn't have any particular thoughts running through her mind at the moment. Actually, for about the past three months Sophia's mind had been bereft of most intelligence. She could barely remember what she had eaten for breakfast, and had the most difficult time remembering the names of the people that she had saved the galaxy with.

Maneuvering her way through the crowded streets of Tokyo, Sophia continued to hum to herself. Where exactly she was going, she didn't know. All she knew was that she was supposed to tell someone something… Sophia abruptly stopped, causing some people behind her to slam into her back. The people, after much cursing, fought the forever present rush of human activity to get around the small girl.

Sophia glanced up at the tall skyscrapers, the sharp metallic buildings shining in the bright afternoon sun. What was she supposed to be doing? Sophia put a hand to her forehead and closed her dark green eyes, as if these small acts could bring forth the eluding thought. After standing in the river of people for five minutes, her hand still pressed to her forehead, Sophia's eyes snapped open. She couldn't remember. A feeling of panic and worry fell over the young brunette, making her break out into a cold sweat.

"_Fayt…?"_ she thought to herself, her eyes widening when she realized what she had been told to do. Mirage, or at least she thought it had been Mirage, had told Sophia to tell a girl named Maria something about a boy named Fayt. Sighing, Sophia knew she didn't remember what exactly Mirage had told her to tell Maria, but at least she could tell Maria to contact Mirage. Shrugging, Sophia continued onward, humming softly to herself once again.

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It was his fault. Fayt groaned and turned onto his stomach, pulling a pillow over his head. He pushed the pillow up against his ears, attempting to drive away the accusing voices that had been his conscious as of late.

_It's all your fault. It's your fault she's like that. Why do you always have to screw up? Why can't you just be normal like everyone else? You've ruined all of their lives, especially hers. You're always so damn stubborn. It's your fault. It's all your fault._

Grunting, Fayt threw the pillow off of his head and stood up quickly, instantly regretting it. Wobbling, Fayt tried vainly to regain his balance, his arms waving in the air like a bird.

"Woah!" Fayt yelled, falling back onto the floor. Fayt forgot he hadn't been getting much sleep lately, which always upset his sense of balance. Putting his head in his hands, the blue haired boy waited until the ground stopped spinning. Once it had, Fayt looked up. The hut that he had been staying in was bare of all furnishings, except for a small fireplace in the center of it. A hole was cut into the top of the hut so that the smoke could escape. The embers were still red from the fire Fayt had made last night. It wasn't chilly on Elicoor II, but Fayt had felt more protected somehow with the cheery glow of the flames taking the darkness from the hut. Watching the strange shadows that the fire had cast on the wall, Fayt had felt somehow peaceful.

This morning, however, was a different matter. Fayt's mind was in an uproar. Of course Fayt blamed himself for what happened to Sophia, how could he not? It was he who wouldn't allow Sophia to find out for herself how to come back to the Milky Way Galaxy. It was he who thought _for_ her, pushing images of how he remembered the cheerful young girl into her mind, selfishly begging for her to come back. When she did come around, however, what was left was the fragmented mind of a girl he might have come to love.

Sophia couldn't remember anything that had happened, except for the fact that her name was Sophia and she had helped save the galaxy. She hadn't remembered Cliff, Fayt, Nel, or any of the people she had worked and struggled with for the past year. Slowly, Mirage and Maria had tried to piece her shattered memories back together, but it was slow progress. After almost three months, Sophia could barely remember who Mirage and Maria are, even though they were the two who spent the most time with her.

Fayt had stayed with Sophia for the first month, trying to coax the young girl to remember him, to remember anything, but hadn't been able to succeed. Meanwhile, Cliff and the others had been telling him that it wasn't his fault, that he wasn't the one to blame. Fayt knew the truth, though. Fayt knew that if it wasn't for his stubbornness at letting someone go, that his "nobility" to make sure none of his friends got hurt, Sophia wouldn't be like she was. After a month of hell, watching Sophia as she stared blankly at the people she had been so close with in the past, listening to all the excuses others made for him, Fayt had left.

He was sick of how everybody had tried to make him feel better when the bitter truth was that it was his fault that Sophia couldn't remember anything, no matter how they tried to cushion it. He couldn't stand to be around Sophia anymore, and he hated himself for leaving her, but he just couldn't stand to watch her as she tried to put the right name to the right face. Every time he watched the brunette attempt something and fail, it crushed him. It killed him to see what he had done to her.

By running away, Fayt knew he wasn't solving the problem and it would still be there when, and if, he went back, but at least he could try to sort through his own conscious. He wasn't helping Sophia by blaming himself, and he knew that in order to bring back the real Sophia, he would have to sort through his own problems first.

Fayt sighed and stood up, slowly this time, and walked languidly out of the hut. He made sure to grab his broadsword on the way out, and strapped it across his hip. Squinting into the bright light of the sun, Fayt slowly looked about him.

The village that he was staying in was nice enough, but the lack of technology on Elicoor II was taking its toll on the 19 year old. Sure, he had brought his own things, but he couldn't exactly use them, unless in privacy. Still, he didn't even get the luxuries of a television or a washing machine.

Running a rough hand through his bright blue hair, attempting to untangle it somewhat, Fayt started towards the center hut. The village consisted of 24 huts in all, which made it a rather large settlement. The people here were nice enough, but Fayt was starting to grow tired of waking up to the same village every morning. He didn't like it when there was nothing new to do, because that gave him time to think about Sophia.

"_Sophia…"_ Fayt grimaced, mentally kicking himself for bringing that subject up again. Shaking his head, Fayt continued on his way. _"We really should leave this village soon, though." _Fayt thought to himself, glancing around, _"The villagers here are nice, but I think they are on edge after having two outsiders in their village for such an extended time."_

They had been here for almost a week, which was strange considering how they had usually only stayed in a village for three days. Fayt and his traveling companion had been wandering Elicoor II, visiting some of the larger villages. What his companion's purpose was in all of this, Fayt didn't know, but never questioned him. Fayt was actually glad for the seemingly sporadic way they had been traveling because it had taken his mind off of Sophia and the crushing guilt that he knew he should be feeling.

Fayt paused outside of the central hut and took a deep breath. He remembered the last time he had barged in on one of his traveling companion's "discussions" and was rewarded with a bump the size of an egg on his head. Wincing at the memory, Fayt decided to wait outside until the chief elder and his companion were done with their discussion.

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"Hello, Mirage? It's Maria." Maria had called Mirage quickly after Sophia showed up, wondering what the problem was. Sophia had mentioned something about Fayt, even though the confused girl still had no clue who Fayt was.

"Oh, Maria? Did Sophia make it there all right? I was so worried." Mirage replied, second guessing her decision to send Sophia out on her own.

"No, no, Sophia's fine. She did, however, mention something about Fayt. Is something the matter? Have you located him?" Maria asked, not being able to hide the anxiousness from her voice.

"Yes, Cliff and I have found out where Fayt has been all of this time. Surprisingly, he's been on Elicoor II…" Mirage continued, trailing off to let Maria come to her own conclusion.

"Elicoor II? Why would he go there…?" Maria frowned, thinking of all the possible reasons that could have lead the young boy to Elicoor II. Fayt didn't necessarily like the planets with lesser technology, so why would he go… "Elicoor II?" Maria repeated, her frown deepening, "You don't think he could have followed…_him_…do you?" There was a short silence on the other side of the phone, before Mirage spoke again.

"Why else would he go to Elicoor? He has no family there, nor any purpose or intent that we know of. He must have gotten depressed staying around Sophia the whole time, you know how he is. He'll snap out of it in a few more weeks and come back home." Mirage's voice had a finality to it that left no room for argue, typical to the Klausian race.

"Yeah, but…" Maria started to protest when Mirage cut her off.

"Maria, we aren't doing anyone any good worrying about Fayt. He's almost an adult and can take care of himself. We know that Nox isn't the nicest guy in the galaxy, but what else can we do? Go and rescue Fayt from the one person he might feel comfortable with? You know Nox. He wouldn't judge Fayt for what he did to Sophia, even if it was his fault. He'll probably just ignore Fayt like always, and that's probably why Fayt wanted to travel with him in the first place. If you're worrying about his unpredictable demeanor, don't. Even _he_ wouldn't kill Fayt. The worst he could probably do is give Fayt a fat lip, since Fayt is, after all, the embodiment of destruction."

Maria stayed silent for a while, then sighed into the telephone.

"Fine, Mirage, we'll do this your way. I still don't like Albel, though. That man was always a bit too sadistic for my peace of mind. Listen, though, I should get going. Sophia's making a pot of tea and I have to make sure she's doing it right this time. I'll keep in touch. Call me if Fayt's location changes." And with that the blue haired girl clicked the phone into place. Turning towards the kitchen, Maria went to help Sophia with the tea.

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Fayt woke with a start. He had fallen asleep outside of the hut waiting for Albel, and was now cradling his side. Albel had jabbed the younger boy in the side with his boot, none too lightly, either.

Fayt winced and grumbled groggily, "What the hell was that for?"

Albel smirked in reply and simply said, "Nothing in particular." He then turned sharply on his heel to leave. Fayt scrambled to stand up, and almost fell over again, the dizziness coming over him. The edges of his vision were spotted with black. Fayt put a hand to his head and tried to lean up against the side of the hut, but missed by a few inches. Instead, Fayt fell back to the ground, the world spinning around him. Groaning and curling his knees up to his stomach, Fayt stayed on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass.

When his vision cleared, Fayt sat up and looked to his left. Albel was watching him, his arms crossed over his chest and a condescending smile on his face. Fayt glared at the swordsman and hurried to catch up with him. Once he was even with Albel, the two started walking to their huts.

"That was quite possibly the most amusing thing I've seen all day." Albel said, grinning wickedly, "I congratulate you, maggot."

Fayt fought to remain calm, but it was a very hard thing to do, since he hadn't gotten much sleep.

"Be quiet, Albel. I haven't been getting much sleep lately, that's all, so wipe that stupid grin off of

your face." This only made the arrogant man grin all the more, his crimson eyes flashing in the fading light.

The two weaved their way through the village until they got to the huts that they had been staying in. Their shelters were across the path from one another, and as Fayt turned to walk into his, Albel stopped him.

"Wait, maggot. I'm leaving this village tomorrow. I've found what I've come for. I still don't understand why you've been following me for the past couple months, and quite honestly, I don't care to know the reason. Stop following me, fool. I don't need your company and I sure as hell don't want it." Albel walked briskly into his hut, leaving Fayt in the middle of the path.

Fayt walked into his own hut and smiled to himself. Albel had told him to leave before, using stronger words even, yet Fayt just couldn't bring himself to part ways with the cold warrior yet. Fayt felt that there was a reason to all this madness of following Albel around.

Yawning loudly, Fayt crawled to the ground where he had left his sleeping bag, not yet ready to fall asleep because he was a little frightened to. He knew that the nightmares would be back along with the guilt, and he wasn't ready to face that just yet. Sitting up, Fayt grabbed a thin log from the nearby pile of fire wood that he had collected earlier in the week. Quickly taking out a book of matches, Fayt struck one and put the flame to the log, the dry wood igniting quickly. Fayt threw the stick into the fire pit, adding more to the pile. Hugging his knees to his chest, Fayt stared in silence at the fire's unpredictable movement.

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Albel stood in the middle of the hut, his head lowered. He was growing impatient. If that worm hadn't shown up, the swordsman was almost certain he would be done with his preparations, but as it was, he was hardly halfway through. He had been to most of the villages surrounding this one, but this was the only one that had ever heard of the King of the Dead, and most of it was just legends. Albel growled in annoyance.

_"Damn Fayt," _Albel thought bitterly to himself, _"I don't' care what he does or thinks. I'm leaving tonight and if that maggot tries to follow me, I'll gut him myself."_

The swordsman turned sharply and began to gather his things, shoving them roughly into a sack. Once he was through packing, he grabbed his metal gauntlet and strapped it to his heavily bandaged arm, acknowledging the familiar weight that came with it. Albel then left, only slowing down briefly to grab the sack that contained the very few things he owned.

Once out of the hut, the swordsman walked quietly past the hut where Fayt was sleeping, then continued at a very fast walk down the hill that led to a forest. Albel sighed raggedly and ran his hand through his hair, the brown and yellow strands falling back to their familiar places around his face.

"Albel?" a boyish voice asked, followed by quickening footsteps.

_"Damn." _Albel thought angrily, turning to face his green eyed foe. Albel stood, his hands on his hips, the sack at his feet, and glared threateningly at Fayt. Fayt stopped walking, just staring at the fuming swordsman.

"Listen up, maggot, because I'm only going to say this once." Albel hissed, his red eyes taking on a dangerous glint. "Stay away from me. Never come near me again. I pray to the gods that I will never have to look at you again in my life time. You sicken me, worm."

Albel bent to pick up the sack again, hoping that that would be enough to keep Fayt away. He had no such luck, however, as Fayt walked closer to Albel, glaring at the swordsman.

"Now it's your turn to listen, Albel." Fayt growled, his eyes turning cold, "You think I actually enjoy your company? Don't you ever wonder why I would submit myself to your verbal abuse every day?" At this, Albel smirked and started to reply, but Fayt held up a hand, silencing the cocky swordsman, "Wait, don't interrupt. The reason I sought you out is because I deserve to suffer. It's all my fault…" Fayt trailed off, looking to the grass and angrily biting back the tears that he would refuse to show. Fayt snapped his head up again, making Albel's crimson eyes widen a bit with surprise as he saw the expression of loathing stamped upon the young boys face. "I knew that you wouldn't judge me or try to sympathize with me. The others all tried to make me feel better by assuring me that it wasn't my fault. Well, I hated them for trying to make this sin I've committed any less than it is! I knew that, had I stayed, I would have withdrawn. I would have become even more screwed up than I am now! I couldn't allow that to happen, so I came to you because I knew you wouldn't try to tell me it wasn't my fault. I knew you would, with your biting comments, bring me back to reality. I knew I would be able to sort things out if I just could get away from the others for a while." Fayt stopped, panting from lack of breath.

Albel stared uncertainly at the young boy, raising an eyebrow. "Are you through forcing me to listen to your prattling, worm?" the blue haired boy bobbed his head up and down, the anger he had felt a short while ago dissolved.

_"This could be fun…"_ Albel thought, wanting to know the rest of Fayt's story out of sheer curiosity. It sounded as if it put the young boy in pain just remembering it, which engaged Albel. The swordsman realized that he wanted to know what was so terrible that it would put the usually happy-go-lucky boy in such a foul mood. Slinging the sack over his shoulder, Albel walked to stand next to Fayt.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow morning, maggot, so you'd better be packed." Albel growled, unable to hide the amusement in his voice, "I'm looking forward to our travels ahead." He whispered. Fayt shivered, feeling Albel's warm breath on the nape of his neck. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the retreating back of Albel the Wicked. Putting a hand on his neck where Albel's breath had brushed his skin, Fayt shivered again.

_"What the hell was that?"_


	2. Of Crags and Snakes

Second chapter! I actually probably have around 4 or 5 chapters saved in my documents, but I think I'll put them up if I get any requests to do more. :)

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Cliff punched a clenched fist into his open palm. That Fayt had a way of getting himself into trouble.

Gritting his teeth, Cliff roughly pushed a door open, a group of nurses scurrying out of the large man's way. Damn it, Maria and Mirage were taking forever, and it was starting to make the impatient man angry. Why was he sitting here doing nothing but watch doctors and nurses examine Sophia when he could be saving his best friend? Not that Fayt had exactly called to be saved…but, all the same, Cliff was sure that…_he_…wasn't any good for Fayt's state of mind.

That pompous bastard really bugged Cliff, making him all the more angry that he wasn't demanding Fayt's return. Mirage had tried to tell him to calm down and think of how Fayt felt, but whatever the young boy _was_ thinking, Cliff was sure it wasn't that he wanted to stay with that Nox guy.

Peering through a small psychiatric ward window that led into a small, white room, Cliff saw Sophia and the doctor with Mirage and Maria. Sophia was doing most of the talking, and it seemed she was having a fun time. Cliff smiled sadly and shook his head. The young brunette hadn't known why she was being asked questions, but she had obviously thought it was fun.

Cliff made a few hand gestures at the door's window to catch Mirage's attention, and when he saw her bright blue eyes flick over to meet his, Cliff gestured for her to come outside. Cliff then saw Mirage interrupt Sophia's talking, probably apologizing profusely, and talk to the doctor briefly, jabbing a thumb at the door. The doctor swiveled on his chair and peered out of the window through thick glasses, making Cliff smile uncomfortably. Cliff never really liked doctors. Mirage then stood up and walked quickly to the door, a scowl appearing on her face.

"_Uh oh…" _Cliff thought when he saw the color rising in the blonde's cheeks.

Mirage quietly opened and closed the door, but then turned on Cliff and grabbed his well muscled arm, dragging him down the hallway.

"H…Hey!" was all Cliff managed to say, but when Mirage snapped her gaze back on him, he decided to be quiet. When Mirage got like this, there was no calming the Klausian woman down.

Once they got to the main lobby of the hospital, Mirage continued through the front doors, still dragging Cliff behind her.

Once they got outside, Mirage released Cliff's arm and crossed her arms, keeping her back to the slightly ruffled man.

"What do you want, Cliff?" Mirage asked in a quiet voice that surprised Cliff. Usually, when they were younger, whenever Mirage got angry at Cliff she would yell at him, which usually resulted in them screaming back and forth at each other, both not willing to "lose". But now, with Mirage being almost sorrowful, Cliff didn't know how to react.

"Well?" Mirage snarled, for a second losing the quiet demeanor she had showed a few minutes ago. Cliff smiled slightly. At least the real Mirage he knew was still there.

"Mirage, I know we've had this conversation before…" Cliff started, staring at the blonde with a crooked smile on his face.

"Cliff…" Mirage sighed, almost rolling her eyes.

"Wait. Just hear me out, ok?" Cliff said, watching as the Klausian woman quietly nodded her head. "Fayt's been gone for 3 months." At this, Mirage nodded her head in agreement, "You know how much it has been bugging me to wait around this place without a word from him. Don't you find it a little strange that he hasn't even called us?"

"Cliff, you can be really dense at times." Mirage sighed, shaking her head. "Fayt obviously _wants_ to be left alone, otherwise he wouldn't have left in the first place. And just because he hasn't called us doesn't mean that he's in trouble or hurt, if that's what your thinking, it just means he doesn't want to contact us yet. Give him a few weeks, maybe another month. He'll probably call before then."

"Yeah, but if he doesn't…" Cliff began to protest, ignoring the rising annoyance in Mirage's face, "can't you even agree to let me go get him back? Let's just say, that if he doesn't com back in…a month, then I should go to Elicoor II and drag him back."

"Cliff. I'll agree with you, maybe just to shut you up, however…when you say 'drag him back' you'd better not bring him back here if he doesn't want to. If you do, that would be very selfish and I don't think I could ever forgive you. So, let's just say that in one month, if Fayt hasn't called by then, that you may go to Elicoor II to _talk_ with Fayt, and see what he wants. If he wants to stay, so be it, just make sure you let him know that we're worried about him. If he wants to come back, all the better, and bring him with you. Can you agree to that?" Mirage glared, making a point that if Cliff did bring Fayt back without Fayt's consent, that Cliff would have _her_ to deal with. Cliff gulped mockingly and smiled, patting his older sister on the back.

"Yeah, yeah _mom_. I hear you. You always were very picky with detail. Just leave it to me. I'll have Fayt back here in a jiffy…" Cliff trailed off, then added upon seeing Mirage's face, "_if_ he wants to come back." Mirage relaxed then, closing her eyes.

She had been up almost all night taking care of Sophia. Her and Maria traded off every other night because it seemed that the young brunette almost never slept, but rather much enjoyed talking…all…night…long. Mirage sighed. It had been very tough what with Sophia's current condition, but the stubborn Klausian was determined to see it through to the end.

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"Wake up, maggot." Fayt groaned, putting a hand up to shield his eyes from the light which came from the front doorway. Someone had moved aside the thick piece of cloth that was used as a door, but which also kept the light out. Still on his back, Fayt propped himself up on his elbows and looked around, trying to find Albel, who had, apparently, woken him up.

"Albel? Where'd you go?" Fayt slurred, still tired. He still hadn't been getting much sleep. He was wide awake, however, when a rough hand was clasped over his mouth. Albel was kneeling close behind Fayt, his breath stirring the boy's blue hair. Fayt tried to ask Albel what he was doing, but with Albel's strong hand over his mouth, his question turned into a muffled grunt of protest.

"Be quiet, fool." Albel whispered into Fayt's ear, pulling his hand away from the flabbergasted boy's mouth. "We're leaving. Get your things." Albel stood up and walked towards the entrance to the hut. Fayt squinted, straining to see through the doorway, seeing that it hadn't been as bright out as he had first thought. It was probably four in the morning. Checking his watch, Fayt saw that his guess wasn't far off.

"Albel, why are we leaving so early?" Fayt whispered, making sure his voice wasn't any louder than Albel's had been.

"Because I feel like leaving now. Don't question me, worm." Albel sneered. Fayt stared, astounded at the older man's rationalizing. He was about to ask more questions when he froze. A look of…pride?...fell over the swordsman's face as he glanced out the door. Albel seemed to smirk as he crossed his arms over his chest, an air of arrogance hovering around him.

"Albel…" Fayt groaned, standing up, "What did you do?" Albel snapped his gaze back over the young boy, glaring for a second, before he smirked again.

"Not much." He said simply, then looked around at the floor, gesturing for Fayt to hurry up with his packing.

_"What is Albel thinking?" _Fayt wondered, sneaking a glance over his shoulder at the tall man while rolling up his sleeping bag. Albel was of an interesting build, being around six feet and very thin. He also chose an interesting wardrobe, wearing a tight, purple shirt that was cut off and, most interestingly enough, a purple skirt. His choice of wardrobe always confused Fayt, but then it really wasn't his place to say what the strange swordsman could and couldn't wear.

"Stop staring, fool, and hurry up. I'm growing impatient." Albel jeered, squinting his eyes menacingly.

Fayt felt himself blush, though he didn't know why, and stood to grab his tattered backpack. Slinging his book bag in front of him, Fayt grabbed his sword and strapped it onto the front of his backpack, finding that this was the easiest way to carry his broadsword while traveling. The hilt ended up sticking out past his left shoulder, making it easy to reach with his right arm. While this probably wouldn't have worked with a longer sword, Fayt's sword was a few inches shorter than most, making it possible.

Shrugging his bag onto his back, Fayt shifted his shoulders until he was comfortable, then went to stand next to Albel, who was still peering out of the entrance. Albel nodded to Fayt once the young boy was even with him, then walked out of the hut.

"Ah, so I see the maggots _have_ come out to play today." Fayt heard Albel say once the older man walked out of the hut. The chilling sound of Albel's sword being drawn slowly out of its sheath was all Fayt needed to run out of the hut, looking around frantically for Albel.

To the left of the hut stood Albel, his sword, the Crimson Scourge, pointed at a group of tribal warriors, who were brandishing crudely made swords of their own. Fayt ran to Albel's side and saw the wicked man smile, apparently thinking Fayt would join him in the battle, but instead Fayt grabbed Albel by his wrist, making him switch the Crimson Sword into his clawed hand's grasp, and pulled him into a run.

"Stop pulling me, worm! Those maggots deserve to die." Albel raged, trying to pull his wrist from Fayt's grasp. Fayt was adamant, however, and didn't want there to be any blood shed.

"Shut up." Fayt snapped, not bothering to look back at Albel. The older man just sighed in annoyance, since he was slower than Fayt was and the sprint was starting to wind him.

Once they got to the edge of the hill where Albel and Fayt had been only the night before, Fayt slowed down. The angry voices that came from the village had died down somewhat, and Fayt wanted to know what all that was about.

"Albel." Fayt said evenly, watching as the older man breathed deeply to catch his breath. "_You_ wouldn't have caused all that back there, would you?" Albel snapped his crimson eyes over the blue haired boy and grinned wickedly.

"I might have." He said as evenly as Fayt had been. Fayt stopped walking and turned to face Albel, his hands on his hips.

"What did you do?" he asked roughly, glaring at the swordsman.

"Not much. I already told you that, worm." Albel sneered, turning to face the equally annoyed teenager.

"I'm not going to settle for that answer. Now, tell me what you did so that I can go apologize to the chief elder and ask him for your things back." Fayt grinned, watching as the realization of what happened settled over Albel, his eyes widening in surprise.

"They took it then, did they?" Albel asked, meaning the sack that he carried the few things he thought valuable enough to keep. Fayt nodded, a few blue strands of hair faling into his eyes. "Maggots…" Albel muttered under his breath and drew his sword again, taking a deliberate step back towards the village.

"No! Wait, Albel!" Fayt gasped, not believeing how rash the swordsman was. "You can't just waltz back in there and take your things from them!" At this, Albel stopped and turned to glare at the younger boy.

"Why the hell not? And I wasn't planning on 'waltzing' as you so crudely put it. I was more in the intention of going back, killing a few worms on the way, then coming back her after retrieving _my_ things from them."

Fayt paused before retorting, a mental image of Albel waltzing forming in his mind. After unsuccessfully suppressing his laughter, Fayt looked back up at Albel, who was staring at him as if he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had.

"Just tell me what you did, ok?" Fayt asked, rubbing his temples. Today was bound to be an interesting day.


	3. Deeper Than Apologies

Weee! Third chapter! This one is a little shorter than my other ones, I think...sorry! I'll put up more soon. I have probably another chapter still that I've already written. Umm,so far there'sbeen some confusion about Sophia, and what's going on with her. Well, let me see...(SPOILERS)

At the end ofthe gameLuther, the Creator, istrying to erase Fayt's whole galaxy andthe whole program...system...thingy that they live in. So...naturally, Fayt andhis companions are being erased as well. Until a little voice inFayt's head tells him to "believe" and it goes on abouthow if you can think than you can believeand if you believe than you...are! I thought it was a little corny, personally, but that's just me. So, in my story,Ichanged the ending a little and made it so Sophia was taking a longer time to "believe" than the rest, which meant she wasn't where the others had woken up. Fayt started freaking because he liked her and is veryprotective of his comrades. So,instead of waiting to see if Sophiacould figure it out for herself, Faytstarted to imagine her and how she was, unknowingly bringingSophia back to their galaxy. He had forged some sort of telepathic link, I suppose, that brought back a part of Sophia, but not all of her...as you probably have surmised from my writing.

Sorry if that was a little unclear. I hope my explanation above can help!(Also, sorry for the spoilers...)

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"So, as you can see, chief elder, Albel here is very sorry for what he did." Fayt said, elbowing Albel in the ribs when the older man snorted. Fayt then bowed, out of respect, and looked back up at Albel expectantly.

"Just make sure those ignorant shamans stay out of my way next time." Albel mumbled, glaring back at Fayt. The swordsman wouldn't bow to this withered excuse for a leader; the young boy ought to know that. Fayt just sighed and looked back to the chief.

"Could you please just give us back Albel's things so that we can leave your village peacefully?" The old chief looked from Fayt to Albel, staring at the older swordsman with wrinkled, tired old eyes.

"You don't know what you're getting into, young man." The chief said, wagging a finger in Albel's face. Fayt knew how much this annoyed the hot tempered man, and prayed silently to the gods that Albel wouldn't do anything rash. "I suggest you stop your search before you get in too deep. The Dead don't sleep, remember that. You not being able to find them doesn't necessarily mean they won't find you. The shamans tried to warn you, but you cast their warnings aside. Take my advice then, and stay away." the elder finished, crossing one arm over his chest and offering Albel's bag with the other. Albel glared daggers at the chief, then snatched his bag roughly out of the shaking, old hand's grasp and stormed out of the hut.

Fayt, in his hurry to leave and catch up with Albel, turned quickly before exiting the hut, bowing once more and saying, "Thank you for your hospitality, chief elder. I'm sorry for all the troubles we have caused you and your village." With that done, Fayt turned once more to leave the hut, jogging to catch up with Albel.

"Wait! Gods, Albel! Did you actually think that they wouldn't get mad that you beat the hell out of their chief shaman?" Fayt all but yelled, astonished and almost out of patience with the fiery swordsman. Albel turned on the young boy, hair falling into his blood red eyes.

"Be quiet, Leingod. I don't need your reasoning to explain the results of my actions. I also didn't ask for your help in this matter, but you had to be your 'noble' self and cut in when you're not wanted." Albel turned back, wanting nothing more than to leave this accursed village and move on to another one. Fayt, however, wasn't through.

"What was the chief talking about in there, anyway? The Dead don't sleep? What was all that about?" Fayt asked, tired of being left in the dark. Albel growled and spun back around, standing closely in front of the boy.

"Even if you deserved to know my intentions, maggot, I wouldn't tell you. So don't even bother asking about it and don't bring it up again!" he hissed into Fayt's face, glaring down at the small teenager.

"Fine, fine. I won't ask _you_ anything anymore…" Fayt grumbled, looking down because he found, to his surprise, that he couldn't make eye contact with Albel. The older swordsman humphed, and turned to walk away again. "…rotten old man." Fayt finished, looking up in time to see Albel stop, the older man realizing that Fayt had used the same words he had used to describe Woltar, the man who had raised Albel. Turning to look over his shoulder at Fayt, Albel glared, and then found himself smirking.

"Bah. Hurry up, maggot." Is all the flustered swordsman said, then continued walking, shaking his head at the audacity of his younger companion.

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"Your majesty." Nel said, kneeling reverently before the Queen of Aquios. The wise Queen had only called Nel to the audience chamber minutes ago, but the devoted woman was there long before she was expected. The red haired warrior had just gotten back from Peterny mere minutes before the Queen called, a small riot making trouble there.

"Ah, Nel. I see you have come in answer to my call." The gentle, red eyed Queen said in a worn, tired voice. After just recently coming to an agreement with Airyglyph, the kingdom Aqios had been warring with for some time, Aquios was still in ruins. It had taken all of the Queen's strength just to keep the kingdom running, often times getting barely enough sleep, having to pore over the hundreds of letters from the upset civilians of random villages scattered through the countryside. One letter, however, stood out in the Queen's mind. "Nel, I trust that you have taken care of the riots in Peterny?"

"Yes, your majesty." Nel answered briefly, wanting to keep her answers short, since the Queen still had much to do.

"Good. I have yet another mission that I hope you will agree to. You may, of course, rest before you leave, but I have agreed to send someone to the village of Shinda before night fall tomorrow."

"Excuse me, your majesty, but I've never heard of a village called Shinda before. May I ask where it is located?" Nel interrupted without meaning to.

"Shinda is a relatively small village, barely meeting the requirements for it to be called a village. It's more of a settlement, really. I'll have someone give you a map with its location later. As for the task you must undertake, apparently two strange travelers have recently visited the village, causing a sort of uproar. The chief elder of this village described them as 'one with bright blue hair' and the other with 'a claw for one hand and blood red eyes that made my spine tingle.' As you have probably already come to the same conclusion as to who these two mysterious people are as I have, I'm sure you won't mind going to this village to investigate." The Queen finished, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yes, your majesty." Nel answered, kneeling once more and then standing to take her leave.

"Thank you, Nel. As always, may the gods be with you. You have helped me more than I could have ever hoped. You may leave." The Queen said, nodding slightly to the young woman.

"Thank you, your majesty. I shall not fail you." Nel added, bowing deeply before finally turning to go.

_"Fayt and Albel?"_ Nel thought to herself as she walked towards the doors that led to the hallway,_ "What could they be doing here?"_


	4. An Urgent Letter

Yay! 4th chapter! I think this one is longer than last one...which is good, I s'pose. Umm, not much to say about this one. Thanks for the reviews! Please enjoy.

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The Queen of Aquios sighed. She hated sending Nel on all of these missions, but the young, strong hearted warrior was the most capable out of all the warriors in the kingdom.

The peace held between the two kingdoms was fragile at best. Though both parties had agreed to the peace, the kingdom of Aquios could hardly forget the devastation Airyglyph had wrought upon them, attacking the weaker country with thoughts of only how they could benefit. War always brought many casualties on both sides, and this one had been no exception.

One of Nel's subordinates, Farleen, had died tragically, and Queen Romera knew the impact this had made upon Nel. The female warrior had grieved for days, taking full responsibility for Farleen's unpredictable death, as was her nature. It was only a week ago that Nel had made the decision to stop mourning and help the kingdom recover from war.

Aquios was in turmoil, the Queen knew, and she felt helpless that she couldn't do more to help rebuild, but as it was, she hardly had enough time to sleep. It was up to the citizens of Aquios now to save the kingdom. Only by banding together could they clean the rubble and waste that war had left in its wake. Only together could the fields be replanted for the years to come. This winter would be important, since it would decide whether or not Aquios was meant to survive.

Uttering a short prayer to Apris for strength, Queen Romera turned back to her desk, picking up the letter that had been sent by Seishiki, the chief leader of Shinda.

Normally, chief elders rarely revealed their birth names to anyone, but often took on a much shorter name to be addressed by. Seishiki was the chief elder's real name. Romera had known Seishiki since she was little, when her father had been the ruler of Aquios. Although the Queen didn't remember much of that time, she still remembered Seishiki looking as old then as he did now. What his real age was, she couldn't say. Her father had been very fond of Seishiki, finding a wisdom in him that he was unable to find in anyone else. Seishiki, after turning down many offers to become the Royal Advisor for Romera's father, had asked but one thing in return for his wisdom. This one favor that he asked for was to be the leader of his own village. The King had agreed, knowing that Seishiki would keep true to his word and offer aid to the royal family through his guidance and wisdom. Even to this day, Seishiki was still a close friend of Romera's, and often did give her advice.

The Queen frowned and reread the letter that Seishiki had sent her, a cold wind creeping into the room.

_"My dearest Romera,_

_This letter is of the utmost importance. Read my words carefully before you decide on what course of action to take, for the choice is ultimately yours. I shall, however, counsel you as I see fit. _

_Yesterday morning, two travelers who had been staying with us until recently left our village on the strangest of terms. One, with bright blue hair, was very pleasant and talked amongst my villagers peacefully. The other, however, was fiery of temper. He also had a claw for one hand and blood red eyes that made my spine tingle. I'm sorry, Romera, that I did not catch their names, but I paid little attention to them until the last few nights that they were with us, as you'll soon see why._

_They came to us on peaceful terms, claiming to seek knowledge from our village shamans. This has happened before, so my village naturally accepted them with open arms and open minds. _

_Each night, the tall one, the one I mentioned before who had the claw, held discussions with each shaman. Strangely enough, he didn't ask the shamans to meet him all together at once, but rather spoke with a different shaman every night. Though this was strange at the time, it will soon become clear to you, as it did for me._

_As the days passed, the shamans began to come to me, one by one, telling me vague and disturbing visions that they had been experiencing. They also told me in pieces what the clawed traveler had discussed with them. The more they told me, the more I was able to piece together what had actually taken place in my peaceful village. I will impart to you these details, Romera, no matter how gruesome or violent, for I fear they are very important. _

_As each shaman came to me, they told me about their visions, as I have above mentioned. Some were random glimpses of bloodshed or war, but the most poignant one was told to me by Zenri, one of our younger shamans. Zenri described to me our village as it is now, next describing your fair city of Aquios. He then described Airyglyph in perfect detail, though I am quite certain that the young man hasn't been there in his life span. As I watched Zenri describe to me these visions with his eyes closed, he started to fall into a trance. His face changed suddenly, his eyebrows creasing and his teeth clenching together, almost making it impossible for me to understand him. His voice changed as well, seemingly filled with agony, humility, and pain, almost as if he were being tortured by some unseen demon's hands! I almost shook him out of his trance-like state, but fear stayed my hands. This shaman was next describing nothingness, in its black entirety. He was describing the vastness of it, the complete and utter darkness of it. He was describing emotions: hatred, sorrow, confusion, his voice changing to fit the emotion._

_Zenri then collapsed after describing what I've recounted to you, for you, above. He hasn't wakened from his slumber, yet, and some fear the worst. _

_After Zenri collapsed, all of the other shamans came rushing to me, more zealous to tell me what they would than before after seeing what happened to Zenri. Each shaman told me what they had discussed with this foreigner. A clever trick this man had played on us! By gong to each shaman individually, he had extracted legends from us, legends that were about the King of the Dead. This insidious man has learned practically everything about the King, from how to find him to the actual summoning spell._

_Yes, this man was most meticulous in his work, but there is still hope, Romera. Most of the shamans have said that this outsider scoffed at the legends, which leads us to believe that perhaps he doesn't believe everything he has learned. Let me assure you now, however, that it is all true. There is a King of the Dead and he can be summoned, but to open the very gates of Hell would be a fool's errand. Let me also tell you, that if the gates of Hell were opened, that the results would be devastating. I believe that the vision Zenri had pertains to the opening of the black gates. I believe that if the gates of Hell were opened, then there would be nothing left. _

_I shall skip now to one night before the foreigners left. Apparently, the tall, clawed one was restless that night, for he started wandering around the village. The villagers avoided him since I had warned them to stay away from this unpredictable man. I still wasn't sure what this man's intention was. You know I try to see the good in people, but with this man, it felt as if there was no good in him to be seen. So, back to the night before they leave. The blue haired traveler is asleep in his hut while the other is prowling the night. Some of the shamans, including our chief shaman, had been discussing the course of action that they should take regarding our strange friend, when he overheard their discussion. Reports from the shamans told me that the tall foreigner had gone into a rage, slicing our chief shaman with both sword and claws. They told me that it had taken the rest of them, four all together, just to pull the infuriated man off of the chief shaman. After they succeeded in getting the traveler off of the bleeding shaman, they said that the foreigner had just walked off as if nothing had happened. _

_The next few hours flew by in a daze. I was telling my village warriors to arm themselves and to keep a watch over the tall foreigner, after which I was busy trying to stabilize our chief shaman's condition. _

_Everything was just starting to calm down when, at four in the morning, shouts could be heard from the village. I would learn later that the tall stranger had confronted the warriors that I had stationed outside his hut, intent on killing them, when his blue haired companion stopped the blood shed from happening. For this I am eternally grateful, for I don't know if my warriors could have stood up to that seemingly possessed man. _

_The warriors brought me a bag which had belonged to one of the travelers. I searched the contents of said bag, of this I am ashamed to admit, and found to my surprise a strange knife. It had engravings on it of which I've never seen. The tip of the knife was curled, almost doubling back upon itself. The hilt of the small dagger was made of a black stone, perhaps onyx. I didn't have long to examine it, however, before a villager came to tell me that the two foreigners were making their way back to the village. I quickly stuffed the knife back in the sack and waited for them to return._

_The bag had belonged to the tall foreigner, who was in no way asking for it back. Oddly enough, it was his blue haired companion that was being very polite, and who was asking for it back. Of course, I gave it back to them. It was the tall one's property, though I would have sooner fed it to the flames then give it back to him. However, you probably well know that I am not one to indulge myself in sudden desires, so I let the idea of throwing the bag into a pit of flames fade from my mind._

_After warning him of the dangers he was facing if he dared to disturb the Dead, they left. I don't think he will listen to me. I, actually, highly doubt that he will. That's why I am asking for your help, Romera. Please, I beg of you, send some soldiers to stop this madman before he opens the very gates of Hell. I don't know his purpose in all of this, but he must be stopped. _

_Your faithful servant,_

_Seishiki"_

Romera put a hand to her head and leaned back into her thick, wooden chair. She had hoped that, since Nel had known and traveled with Fayt and Albel before, that perhaps she alone could stop them. Maybe she had been wrong…

"No." Romera muttered sternly to herself, knowing that she couldn't start doubting herself now. Nel see to it that everything was taken care of.

"Nisen?" The Queen said softly, knowing that the nearby servant would hear.

"Yes, your majesty?" The young girl asked, curtseying as she came through the doorway.

"Please, take this to Lady Nel and tell her that it would be wise for her to read it." Romera said, handing the note that Seishiki had written her to the young servant.

"Yes, your majesty." Nisen said politely, daintily taking the piece of parchment from the Queen's outstretched hand.

Once Nisen had left, Romera stretched across her desk to pick up another letter. The Queen of Aquios raggedly tore open one end of the letter, knowing that she couldn't dwell on one matter for too long. After all, the kingdom was in dire need of its Queen.

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Fayt stretched, his hands in the air, and yawned loudly. He had been getting less and less sleep since they had left the last village. And what was worse was…Albel was starting to notice. The younger boy was growing less and less comfortable around his cold comrade, not being able to look Albel in the eyes, and finding from time to time, to his utter shock, that he had been staring at the older man. One time, when Fayt had realized that he had been staring at Albel, the blue haired boy had snapped his head up to see Albel staring back at him, one eyebrow raised, with a crooked smirk on his face. Needless to say, that encounter had ended up with Fayt floundering to find an answer for his strange behavior while Albel chuckled softly, finding the whole scenario quite amusing. Fayt would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and, being cold and sometimes wet if it had rained, would think about crawling over to sleep next to Albel. On nights when Fayt had been particularly tired, he had actually started to make his way over to the man sleeping next to him, until he would fully wake up and crawl, dazed, back to his own sleeping bag.

Fayt snuck a quick glance at the lanky swordsman to his right, noticing in the bright sun of day how nice Albel's body was. The former Airyglyph captain's body was perfectly muscled to fit his frame. Fayt's eyes drifted down to Albel's legs, which were long, giving him a larger stride than Fayt. The blue haired teenager looked back up, following the long slit in the swordsman's strange skirt, to the small portion of bare thigh that showed through.

_"What am I doing!" _Fayt thought to himself, stopping abruptly and tearing his gaze away from Albel. The older swordsman had stopped walking as well when he saw the teenager stop, and now stood staring inquisitively at the young boy. _"Oh great…"_ Fayt sighed, closing his eyes. One more thing to explain to Abel the Wicked.

"Uhh…I, um…" Fayt started, opening his eyes and turning to look at the swordsman. Albel, however, was already standing in front of Fayt. Standing very closely in front of Fayt.

"A…Albel? What are you…?" Fayt asked, his eyes widening as he tried to back away from his red eyed companion.

"Be quiet, fool." Albel jeered, taking the Crimson Scourge out of its sheath. "You have been all but useless to me these past few weeks. You're 'excuse' is that you haven't been getting enough sleep. Listen, Leingod, I don't care what it takes, but you had better 'get some sleep' because I am tired of you being useless. You traveling with me is growing redundant." At this Fayt blushed, because he thought he knew the one way he might be able to fall asleep, which was wrapped securely in the arms of his fiery tempered comrade. Albel was about to say more, but stopped when he saw the strange expression on Fayt's face. The blue haired boy quickly recovered, erasing any previous emotion that was running through his mind and put on a mask of indifference, staring straight back at Albel. The older man smirked as he saw Fayt's attempt to recover. The teenager's endeavor to compose himself hadn't worked, however, because the damage had been done. The clever swordsman had had growing suspicions for the past few days, and this small act confirmed it.

"Ahh." Albel all but whispered, pointing the Crimson Scourge at Fayt's dainty throat, "I see, now." Albel hooked the large, circular zipper of Fayt's vest onto the point of his sword. "This could turn out to be quite interesting, maggot." Achingly slow, Albel started to draw the zipper of Fayt's vest down, exposing a little more of the blue haired teenagers skin with each centimeter. Once Fayt's vest was open enough to reveal most of his chest, Albel took his sword and pointed it back to Fayt's throat, making a small cut, which was shallow, but sufficient to draw blood. Fayt inhaled quickly, making the other man grin wickedly. Taking his thumb, Albel pressed it to the small wound. "Get some sleep, worm." Albel whispered almost seductively, leaning in so that his body was only an inch from Fayt's. Looking down at his small, green eyed companion, Albel smirked mockingly. The swordsman then withdrew his thumb from the cut he had made on Fayt's neck, a small drop of blood lingering on his fingertip. Fayt watched, mouth agape, as the older man put his thumb to his lips, licking away the small amount of blood that had been there. Once the swordsman was done with this strange gesture, he smirked once more, a strange look reflecting in his blood red eyes.

"Come, fool. We're wasting daylight." Albel said in the same mocking tone he always used. Fayt stood, seemingly frozen, and simply watched as the older man turned his back on the teenager. Suddenly, unexpectedly, fatigue spread throughout Fayt's body, making the small boy swoon, tipping back and forth. Heavy lidded, Fayt fell to the ground, falling asleep almost instantly from the small amount of comfort Fayt had felt from just being close to Albel's warm body.

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"Honestly, maggot, when I said 'get some sleep' I didn't mean right now." Albel muttered to himself, staring back to the prone form of the teenager curled up on the ground. "It's a miracle that he didn't gut himself on his sword…er, I mean, a pity." Albel mumbled, shaking his head, the dark locks that were tipped with blonde swinging slightly. Although he didn't like to admit it, something had changed in the cold swordsman. Albel wasn't quite sure what this was yet, but there was a difference in the way he acted towards Fayt, in particular. The former Captain was finding it harder and harder to stay angry at his smaller comrade, and finding it more difficult to even _find_ a reason to be angry with Fayt. Although Albel still acted cynical, cold-hearted, and sadistic towards his blue haired companion, there was always something in the back of his mind that reacted quite negatively when he did so. Albel usually ignored this 'thing', however.

Sighing roughly, Albel walked over to Fayt, contemplating whether or not to kick him awake. Deciding against it, since the young boy was of more use to him awake than half dead on his feet, Albel dropped his sack on the ground next to Fayt.

Standing over the boy's body, Albel stared at the strange way Fayt was arranged. Since the blue haired boy had still had his backpack on when he had fallen, his back was at a strange angle. Albel thought for a moment that maybe Fayt had snapped his spine, so strange was the angle. No such luck, however, when Albel noticed the teenager's steady, rhythmic breathing. Fayt was fast asleep.

Albel decided that in no way could the position in which Fayt slept be comfortable. The swordsman bent over teenager's body, grabbing one of the backpack's straps.

_"Wait…" _Albel thought to himself as he realized that he was going to remove Fayt's backpack so that his companion might sleep more comfortably. _"Why do I care whether or not Fayt is comfortable?" _Albel started to take his hand away, but something made him hesitate. _"Oh, what the hell."_ Albel thought, then continued to get the thick strap off of the boy's shoulder.

Once Fayt's backpack was off, without the teenager waking up, Albel tossed the accursed thing aside. Albel sat down on the ground next to Fayt, staring idly at the sleeping embodiment of destruction. Fayt's vest was still unzipped, but Albel didn't notice this. Instead, he turned back to his sack and took out a short dagger.

Turning the dagger over in his hands, the swordsman unsheathed it. It had a handle made of onyx, which was a very strong, dark stone that had some white lines running through it, shining in stark, brilliant contrast to the black. The blade itself didn't have any perceivable blemish on it, and it had proved strong when Albel had…tested it on some poor prisoner's arm, back in Airyglyph. The blade was also very thin, which added to the surprising quality of how strong it was. Sheathing the short knife once more, Albel tucked it safely away into his sack. He would need it to be in perfect condition for later.

A small rustle surprised the cruel swordsman out of his contemplations. Instinctively reaching for the Crimson Scourge which lay nearby, Albel eased himself off of the ground. He stood, his ears tuned to the cluster of underbrush ahead. The war-hardened Captain saw slight movements, then saw a figure emerge from the burly undergrowth. Straining to see, for the sun was shining directly in his eyes, Albel slowly brought his hand to the hilt of the Crimson Scourge.

"It's nice to see you too, Albel." A rich, womanly voice floated across the ten feet that was between the swordsman and his foe, making Albel cringe in recognition. Nel.

"Oh, it's only you, worm. I was hoping for a challenge." Albel hissed, dropping his guard. The red haired woman sauntered over to stand in front of Albel, her hands on her hips.

Albel and Nel had been enemies during the war between Airyglyph and Aquios, Albel the Captain of the Black Brigade that served under Airyglyph's rule, and Nel, Queen Romera's most trusted warrior. The first time they had been forced to cooperate together was when the King of Airyglyph had ordered Albel to help Fayt and his group tame the Marquis, which was the largest Air Dragon known to this planet. Grudgingly, the two enemies fought together, neither one enjoying the other's company. Afterwards, Nel had stayed in Aquios while Albel had continued to travel with Fayt. Although they did meet up with the red haired woman later on in their travels, this was the first time Albel had seen Nel since he helped save the galaxy. Resting his wrist on the hilt of his sword, Albel glared at the young woman.

"Well? What do you want, maggot?" Albel sneered, shaking a stray lock of hair out of his face.

"The Queen has sent me on a mission. Where's Fayt? I had heard that you have been traveling with him…" Nel began, directly dodging the swordsman's question. Although the young woman had only been with Albel for a short time, she still knew that when Albel heard what she intended to say, he wouldn't hesitate to lop off a few heads. Having Fayt around would help cool the brash man's temper, or if not, at least there would be another one to die along with her. Nel smiled knowingly at Albel.

"You're avoiding my question, worm." Albel growled. The red haired warrior saw Albel tense, and quickly looked behind him for a distraction…anything to stop the man from getting out of control. What she saw, however, surprised her.

"Is that Fayt on the ground?" Nel asked, seeing the body a few feet away from where she was standing. Albel flinched.

"The stupid fool fainted. Apparently he doesn't know how to take care of himself." Albel scoffed, attempting to sound stand-offish. Nel slipped around Albel to kneel next to the young boy, putting a hand to his forehead.

"Are you sure he isn't sick? Fayt doesn't seem like the type of person to faint easily…" the red haired woman asked, looking back up to Albel and taking her hand off of the teenager's forehead. Albel shrugged dismissively and stood on the other side of Fayt, the swordsman's shadow falling over the teenager's prone form.

Looking back down, Nel arched an eyebrow when she saw that Fayt's vest had been unzipped. Quickly zipping it back up, Nel looked once again to Albel, the tall man standing with his arms crossed loosely, staring down with cruel eyes at the kneeling woman.

"Why is Fayt's…" Nel started, but stopped when she saw the swordsman grin wickedly, his eyes squinting and reflecting the morning light. Shaking her head and sighing, Nel stood back up.

"Nevermind." She said, reaching into a small pouch that she kept around her waist. Taking out a small vial of liquid, the red haired woman bent back over Fayt, pouring its contents down the teenager's throat. Standing once more, Nel nodded to the swordsman, who was watching with some curiosity.

"He should awaken in a few hours. I'll be back to speak with both of you, so don't go running off, Albel."

"Bah." Albel said, glaring over his shoulder as the red haired woman left. How he hated that Aquarian wench. Looking back down to Fayt, Albel wondered whether or not Nel had fed the teenager poison, half hoping that she had. It would solve most of his problems. Turning around, the cruel warrior walked to the nearest tree and sat down in front of it, leaning his back up against its sturdy trunk. Taking the small dagger back out of his sack, Albel unsheathed it and stared into the shining metal, seeing a reflection of himself.

_"What does that maggot want?" _Albel thought, running his thumb across the small knife, _"Surely he isn't actually…attracted to me. He couldn't be. I've been cruel to him, so why…?" _Albel closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest against the bark, _"Even if he is attracted to me, the feeling is one sided. Still…it is amusing to toy with his emotions…" _The wicked man thought, smiling viciously as he remembered the look on Fayt's face when he had stood so closely to the teenager. _"Why am I like this?" _Albel's eyes snapped open as he recognized the small, doubting voice that was buried so deeply into the arrogant man's subconscious. _"Why do I have to be like this? Why do I always act so cruelly to others? I hate myself." _Albel sneered. Putting the small knife on the ground, Albel rolled up the tight purple sleeve on his right arm. Taking the knife in his clawed hand, Albel swiftly lifted it and drove it deeply into the flesh on his right arm; all thoughts vanishing from his mind save for one: pain. Grimacing slightly, Albel watched as the blood spilled out of the fresh cut. Yanking the knife back out of his arm, the swordsman watched as the red blood dripped into the bright green grass. The blood was the same color of the swordsman's eyes as he stared in fascination at the color contrast of red on green.

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That was a difficult chapter to write. Excuse me while I go find more inspiration.

(A/N: As for the Farleen thing...come on, you know you wanted her dead. Or at least her voice box ripped out...)


	5. Dreams

Howdy, everyone! This chapter almost took my life, since I was up so late every night trying to finish it...growl. So, I hope you like it! Now, with school _almost_ over, I might be writing less and less. I know that doesn't make any sense, but for some reason teachers like to kill you with their homework the last few weeks of school. Plus, exams are coming up. geesh. The life of a Freshman, as told by Carrie. ;) Hope you like it! Please review!

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"Unn…" Fayt moaned, attempting to open his eyes. _"Ugh, I'm such a moron, passing out like that…"_ The blue haired teenager thought, putting a hand to his forehead. Opening his eyes, Fayt attempted to focus, but everything was blurry. Suddenly, a piercing light shot through his vision, making the teenager swoon.

"Heh." The teenager heard someone say above his head. Squinting to see through the bright light, Fayt saw Albel standing over him, a smile hovering on his lips. Apparently, the older swordsman's shadow had been blocking most of the sun out of Fayt's face, and when Albel had shifted his weight to his other leg, the shadow had moved, allowing the sun to shine fully in the blue haired teenager's face.

"Agh, Albel…!" Fayt rasped, his throat dry, "My head hurts…" he finished, throwing a lazy arm over his eyes to block out the intense light.

"Stop whining, fool. That wench should be here soon and I would prefer for you to be awake enough to talk to her, so that I don't have to." Albel sneered, standing back so that the young man could stand. Fayt slowly pushed himself up from the ground into a kneeling position, and waited for a few more minutes, taking deep breaths.

"Hmm, so it seems that the Aquarian girl didn't poison you. Pity." Albel breathed, glaring down at the teenager on the ground.

"Aquarian girl? What are you talking about, Albel?" Fayt asked, staring up confusedly at the tall swordsman. _"What happened while I was out?"_ Fayt thought, standing up slowly.

"You know, worm, that _Nel_ girl. The lapdog of Romera." Albel said, his mouth twisting into a sneer.

"Nel? How did she find us? What does she want?" The teenager wondered aloud, folding his arms over his chest.

"How should I know? All that the worm said was that she would be back to talk to us. So stay awake, Leingod. Don't go fainting, again." Albel smiled, resting his wrist on the Crimson Scourge.

"Shut up, Albel." Fayt snapped, glaring at the older swordsman. The teenager usually had a very strong constitution, fatigue and hunger almost never affecting his thoughts or movements. It was just this one time that fatigue had gotten to him.

Running a hand through his thick hair, Fayt put his other hand to his shoulders to take his backpack off…which wasn't on his back. Glancing around, the teenager found his bag near to where he had been laying. Raising an eyebrow, Fayt looked back to Albel, who was busying himself testing the sharpness of his claws.

"…Albel?" the blue haired boy asked, watching as the older man snapped his gaze up from his metal arm to stare at the teenager.

"What do you want, worm?" Albel jeered, his blood red eyes promising death should Fayt say something that he didn't want to hear. Upon seeing this, Fayt changed his mind about asking Albel whether or not the swordsman had been the one who had removed his backpack.

"Uh, nevermind." The teenager said quickly, turning to drink deeply from his water bottle.

"You seem to be feeling better, Fayt." Nel said as she walked towards the blue haired boy. Almost choking on his water out of surprise, Fayt turned to face the red haired woman. Smiling, the teenager shook his head.

"You know, Nel, you really shouldn't sneak up on people like that." Fayt said, happy to see the young woman again. After having only Albel and villagers to talk to for the past three months, a friendly face was refreshing to see. Nel smiled in return, extending her hand. Fayt shook the young woman's delicate hand, as was formal.

"It's nice to see you again, Fayt." Nel said warmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, you too." The teenager replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"How sweet." Albel hissed, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm sorry to interrupt your little reunion, but let's move on. What do you want, Nel?" the swordsman finished, his hands on his hips.

"Alright. The Queen has asked me to escort both of you back to Aquios where she will expect an audience with the two of you. I strongly suggest you do not turn down her request, for the consequences of you not hearing what she has to say could be grim. I also have orders to not accept 'no' for an answer, which is another reason to agree and come peaceably." Nel finished, staring directly at Albel. She knew he probably wouldn't agree to see the Queen, but Fayt might be able to convince him.

"Bah. I don't have time to be playing the entertainer to your precious fool of a Queen. I have more important things to do, worm." Albel said, smirking. He knew that referring to the Queen of Aquaria as a 'fool' would anger the young woman, which was exactly what he was trying to do.

"Our Queen is hardly a fool, Albel. It was your simple minded King that started the useless war between our countries, was it not?" Nel bit back, keeping her temper in check. She couldn't afford to get too upset over this. Albel shrugged.

"It's not my problem anymore, maggot. I don't care what that arrogant King does." The swordsman said, smiling wickedly.

"Come on, Albel. Let's just go see what Queen Romera wants. It's only a few days journey to Aquios, anyway." Fayt said after watching the small banter. The blue haired teenager almost winced when he saw Albel turn his head sharply to stare at him.

"What? You've become a servant of Romera also? How pathetic. Fine, you can go and see what that Queen of fools wants. I, however, will not." Albel snapped, glaring daggers at his young companion. Fayt sighed.

"Didn't you hear what Nel said? The Queen wants to see _both_ of us, not just one." Fayt said, frowning and furrowing his brow. Albel stared at the teenager for a few moments before replying.

"Why should I go to Aquios? There is no good reason as to why I should, unless if you call a few cryptic words a good reason." The swordsman grumbled to Nel, gripping the hilt of his sword for comfort. Fayt opened his mouth to reply, but he knew that Albel had a good point. The teenager would have gone just to please the Queen of Aquios, but the swordsman wasn't self sacrificial at all, wanting something in return for his actions. Looking back to Nel, Fayt waited for an answer.

"I had hoped that you would have come without me having to tell you this, but I see that that is impossible. Woltar is visiting Aquios, awaiting your return alongside the Queen. He too wishes to speak with you." Nel said, crossing her arms confidently over her chest. Queen Romera, for some reason, had told Nel to only disclose this information to the two travelers if there was no other way.

"Woltar? What is that old fool doing in Aquios?" the swordsman asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This I will not tell you, for you must be the one to ask him that…in Aquios." Nel said quietly, half expecting the brash man would stab her through. Instead, Albel squinted his eyes menacingly at the red haired woman, his mouth set in a firm line.

"…fine." The swordsman mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Nel sighed in relief. She knew that, had it come to fighting, she probably wouldn't have come out the victor.

"Thanks, Albel." Fayt said, slumping somewhat after being tense for so long. The teenager had expected a battle to break out between the young woman and the swordsman.

"Bah." Albel said, jerking his gaze back to Nel. "Your Queen and that foolish old man have better thought up a good explanation for all of this, because if they haven't, I think that you'll find Aquios a ghost town before long." The red eyed swordsman growled, clicking his claws together as if to assure the young woman that he would make good on his threat.

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Woltar stood with his back to the room, staring out of a window in the bed chamber he had been given for his stay. The trip to Aquios had taken its toll on the old man, his muscles were starting to protest to his slightest movements. Slowly sitting down in the chair nearest the window, Woltar listened to the wind as it violently whipped through the trees.

"Albel had better come…" the old man sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Woltar had been having strange dreams, and had decided that he should tell Albel about them. His dreams consisted of Albel's parents, dead and decaying, holding discussions with the old man. In reality, Woltar knew that there was no way that the two could be walking the earth, but in the dreams it only seemed logical that Albel's dead parents were now living corpses.

The couple never spoke in his dreams, yet their voices could still be heard drifting and echoing into the vast corners of his conscious. The topic of their discussions was always the same. They only spoke of Albel and expressed great sorrow, panic, and worry for their son. They constantly plagued Woltar with questions of Albel's whereabouts and what he was doing, but the old man's dream self didn't know any more than his real mind did. Finally, after spending many nights in turmoil, Woltar had decided to travel to Aquios to seek the council of Romera, who always seemed to know more about individual people than his own King did, who spent much of his time seeing that his troops were properly trained.

Romera was surprised at Woltar's appearance, which was to be expected, but there was something else…something more, hovering behind those bright red eyes that the Queen was famous for. Along with being surprised, Romera had seemed disturbed when he mentioned the dreams to her and their relation to Albel. The usually calm woman had grown agitated and had asked Woltar to leave the audience chamber soon after he had told his tale.

Sighing once more, the old man let his contemplations end. Too many people were hiding the truth from everyone else, making this puzzle even more complicated than it had to be. Hopefully, everything would sort itself out in the end, because Woltar felt powerless to stop whatever it was that had been set into motion.

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Cliff took out his communicator and tried once more to contact Fayt. Either the teenager had turned his communicator off, or had destroyed it because Cliff couldn't reach his blue haired friend. Setting the small electric device back down, Cliff stood up and walked out of the cockpit.

The stubborn Klausian had been traveling by himself lately to take his mind off of Fayt and the young mans well being. Plus, Maria had laughed at Cliff and had compared him to a mother hen, which the blonde haired man would not tolerate.

Sighing, Cliff shook his head and decided not to worry about Fayt anymore. The more he worried, the more he thought about Fayt traveling with Albel, the more he thought about Fayt and Albel, the more he worried. It was all a vicious cycle, really, and one that Cliff didn't want to get sucked into. If Fayt wasn't back in two weeks, Cliff would go to Elicoor and drag the teenager back, ending the vicious cycle of thoughts. Of course, Mirage _had_ warned Cliff not to bring the blue haired boy back against his will, but what did older sisters know, anyway? All Cliff knew and cared about was that there was no way in hell that he would leave Fayt alone with Albel once he got to Elicoor II.

Looking out of the window, the Klausian watched the passing stars. He hoped Fayt was all right.

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Fayt could feel the power stirring deep within him. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the teenager tried to harness this power once more, reaching towards it.

_"Just a little closer…"_ Fayt thought, sweat beading on his brow. Fayt could see the blue tendrils of pure energy weaving in and out of his soul like a poorly woven rug. Moving towards it with his mind's eye, Fayt extended a hand and moved closer to the strand of energy. Once he touched it he pulled back in alarm. A painful shock had been sent up the teenagers arm, lacing through his body like lightening. He had felt this pain both in his earthbound body and in…_this_ body. Fayt looked down at his slightly transparent form, watching as the last remnants of energy left him. The first time Fayt had reached into himself and found the power that meant being the embodiment of destruction, he had been trying to understand how it worked by slipping off to practice by himself every night. He had seen Maria and Sophia learn how to control their powers, and yet he himself hadn't figured it out.

Whenever the teenager had wanted to look at this energy, he would fall into a trancelike state, which left him frighteningly open to enemy attacks. While Fayt was practicing with his powers, he couldn't see what was happening 'outside' of his body. He could, however, hear, and the young boy had decided to depend on his ears to tell him whether or not an enemy was close.

Sitting down on the damp evening grass, Fayt continued to stare at the intertwining forces.

_"What am I supposed to do?" _the teenager thought, putting his chin into the palm of his open hand.

Several minutes passed as Fayt just sat, his legs crossed, trying to figure out what he was doing wrong. He had tried touching it, which only resulted in pain. He had tried to just think about using it, which just flat out didn't work. He had even tried making some sort of link to the outside world with his earthbound body, to try and clear the path for the energy to flow through, which hadn't worked, either. Fayt probably would have continued his practice for another few hours, but something brought the young man out of his thoughts.

Focusing once again on the world outside, Fayt found himself staring into a pair of crimson colored eyes.

"What are you doing, maggot?" a smooth voice asked, not so much as it was full of hatred as it was curiosity.

"Umm…" Fayt stammered, taken by surprise at the man's sudden appearance, and at how close the swordsman's face was to his. The older man straightened, widening the distance between them, and Fayt instantly regretted it. Although it still unnerved the teenager when Albel stood even remotely close to him, Fayt felt excited and apprehensive being close to the unpredictable man.

Albel glared down at Fayt, becoming impatient because the blue haired boy was taking so long to answer his question.

"I was just…calming myself down." Fayt stuttered, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"Calming yourself down?" Albel snorted, "From what, maggot?"

"I, um, saw this wolf in that, er, patch of trees over there," Fayt gestured frantically to a small cluster of trees about 20 feet away from him, "and it…stared at me funny?" Fayt finished, looking up into Albel's eyes. If the skeptical swordsman would ever believe his lie, Fayt himself would have to be convincing.

"A wolf, eh worm?" Albel asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing over his shoulder at the small patch of trees, "You must really be pathetic for it to have frightened you so much." The swordsman commented, smirking down at Fayt.

"What do you mean?" the teenager asked, furrowing his brow. At this, Albel's smirk grew and his eyes narrowed. Fayt watched, stunned, as the tall man dropped to the ground, crouching in front of him. The swordsman leaned in towards the teenager, who was still sitting on the ground. Fayt fell back onto his elbows, his eyes wide. Now kneeling, Albel leaned in closely to Fayt, straddling the bewildered teenager, and put his hands on either side of Fayt's torso, his long fingers digging into the moist earth. Picking one of his hands back up from the ground, Albel put it gently on Fayt's neck.

"You're sweating." The swordsman whispered, tracing a line of sweat that had run down the side of the teenager's neck. Fayt shivered, feeling the older man run his finger down to the nape of his neck. Looking back in front of him, the blue haired boy found that Albel had already stood up and was now staring down strangely at him. An awkward moment passed before Albel broke it.

"What do you want, Leingod?" the swordsman asked, kneeling back down in front of the flustered teenager.

"…what?" Fayt said, not understanding Albel's question.

"What do you want? Sex? Surely that, for you have been staring at me for the past week with lust stamped plainly on your face." Albel annunciated, leaving no room for question. The cruel man never was one for subtlety.

"No!" Fayt yelled, a mixture of embarrassment and anger spreading throughout his body. He didn't understand why he was angry with Albel, but he was. "I don't want sex, as you so crudely put it. And as for why I've been staring at you, maybe it's just because I'm thinking about how stupid your outfit looks!" At this, Albel's eyes widened before he glared back at the young teenager, muttering something under his breath. "You assume too much, Albel." Fayt continued, choosing to ignore the swordsman's grumbling, "You think I love you? How can I even begin to understand your twisted mind when all you've been to me is cruel?" Fayt left then, trying to calm his unexpected anger.

Albel remained, however, crouched on the ground and staring after Fayt's retreating form. The teenager had lift Albel a bit dazed, which was quite an accomplishment, considering. Smirking to himself, Albel realized the flaw that the younger man had made in his 'speech'. Fayt had said "you think I love you?" when Albel had mentioned nothing about love. The very word made Albel sneer in disgust, but still, this was becoming even more interesting.

Albel was somewhat confused as to why he was so amused that the blue haired boy had fallen for _him_ of all people, and it also confused him that he got so much pleasure out of tormenting his younger companion. Albel never thought on these two points for too long, however, because as long as it kept the swordsman from becoming bored, he wouldn't complain. Fayt's outburst had somewhat surprised the older man. Up until now, Albel had never heard Fayt raise his voice so loudly. Before, whenever the young man was angry with Albel, he would only assume a stern tone and sound annoyed, but he never actually yelled.

Standing up, Albel brushed his skirt off.

"That maggot had better have been joking about my clothes…" the swordsman grumbled to himself. His clothes were not stupid.

Fayt stormed through the clearing where the three travelers had decided to set up camp. Nel jumped and spun around as the teenager made his loud entry into the camp, visibly relaxing when she saw who it was.

"Fayt? What's wrong?" the young woman asked, her voice full of concern.

"Nothing." Fayt mumbled, walking past the confused woman without sparing a glance at her. "I'm going to sleep." He added, then crawled into his sleeping bag with his back facing the small fire the red haired woman had built earlier.

_"Why am I so angry?"_ Fayt thought, glaring off into the forest. Nel watched the young man's back, noticing how his shoulder muscles were tense. Looking back in the general direction in which he'd come, the young woman stood up and walked into the forest, looking to see what had upset the usually calm teenager.

Coming to a small clearing, smaller than the one they had set up their camp in, Nel parted some branches to reveal a certain, purple skirted man sitting in the grass. There was a strange, almost contemplative look on his face. Nel almost snorted at the thought of Albel the Wicked being contemplative.

_"Still..." _The young woman thought as she stared at the strange man, _"What could he be doing here?" _Watching as Albel stood up and brushed himself off, Nel turned to leave before the swordsman found her.

_"I wonder what happened between those two…"_ the young woman thought, walking back to the camp. Whatever it was, Nel decided to wait and watch. It wasn't in the red haired warrior's nature to get involved in other people's business, and she wasn't about to start now. Just watch and listen, and soon things will become clear.

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ee! review review!


	6. Misconceptions

...hi. Sorry this one took me so long to write...heh heh. Inspiration is hard to find these days...-stares wistfully into the future as sappy music plays in the background- ...anyway, now that it's 4:30 in the morning and I have _finally_ finished the sixth chapter...here ya go!

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Fayt cast a sidelong glance at Albel. The tension between the two companions had been considerably high since the incident a few nights ago, and neither had spoken a word to the other since then. Fayt had also noticed that the swordsman wasn't as quick to enter battle as he had been, usually being the one to deal the first blow. And yet, now it seemed that Albel was somewhat hesitant when entering battle…

Fayt sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking back towards the road. Aquios lay ahead of them, its towers still considerably far off, but close enough to see. The terrain was mostly flat in this part of the country, allowing one to see for miles. Staring at the looming shadows, Fayt wondered how much longer they would be traveling.

"Hey Nel…?" the blue haired boy asked, looking at the young woman to his left. Nel looked up at him and raised her eyebrows. "How much longer until we reach Aquios?" Before the red haired woman could answer, however, a mocking snort came from Albel's direction.

"Getting tired, maggot?" he asked, glaring at Fayt.

"No…" the teenager answered evenly, looking from Nel to Albel. "I just want to know how much longer until we get to Aquios, that's all." The swordsman shrugged, quickly becoming bored with the conversation. Nel cleared her throat and answered Fayt's question.

"We'll probably reach Aquios in a few hours, Fayt."

_"Good." _Fayt thought, sneaking another glance at Albel. The swordsman had been worrying him, and Fayt thought that the sooner they reached Aquios, the better.

Albel winced as pain shot through his right arm. It had been a few days since the swordsman had rashly stabbed his own arm, and yet the pain hadn't subsided yet. Usually, the pain would remain a dull throb for a while after the wound had been inflicted, but this time it seemed that he was being stabbed repeatedly over and over again. The swordsman delicately touched his right arm with the claws on his left, feeling the pain spread throughout his arm and shoulder. Pausing slightly in mid stride, the older man had to steady himself before walking again. Albel glared at his right arm, as if this alone could make the pain stop.

"I need to stop and sharpen my sword, maggots." Albel growled, unsheathing the Crimson Scourge and coming to a stop.

"Why? I didn't think that the Crimson Scourge even _needed_ to be sharpened." Fayt replied, knowing that the sword his older companion carried was somehow magic. Albel glared at him, and then ran a finger down the sharp end of the sword.

"Its blade has grown disgustingly dull from all of the enemies I've cut down with it." The swordsman sneered, then walked off of the road to stand behind a thick tree. Dropping his sack on the ground, the swordsman propped the Crimson Scourge against the ancient bark of the tree. Albel then undid the straps that held the heavy metal claws onto his left arm and hefted it off of his shoulder, leaning it next to the sword. Rolling up the sleeve on his right arm, the older man had to clench his teeth as more pain laced through him. When Albel finished rolling up his sleeve, he ripped off the white bandage that he had bound his wound with, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw what had become of the deep cut. The wound was apparently infected. Thick, white puss was dripping down his arm. The flesh surrounding the wound was pale, almost having a green tint to it. The wound itself seemed raw, red blood mixing with the white puss, as it hadn't had a chance to heal. Sweat beaded on Albel's forehead as he realized the severity of this wound. If he didn't get a doctor to look at it soon, there was a high probability that he would die. Quickly grabbing his sack, the swordsman searched it until he found more bandage. Cursing himself that he hadn't taken more time to clean it properly, Albel tightly wrapped the wound once more. There was no point in trying to clean it now, since Albel heard his companions getting ready to travel once more and they would soon be in Aquios.

Rolling his sleeve back down over his wound, the swordsman quickly strapped the claws back onto his left arm and sheathed the Crimson Scourge. The blade really didn't need to be sharpened; Albel had found this out shortly after he had obtained it, though why, the swordsman did not know. Bending down once more to pick up his sack, the older man walked back to the road, watching as Fayt and Nel followed. The festering wound on his right arm throbbed once more, as if to remind the swordsman that it was still there.

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Fayt sighed as they passed under the stone gateway that led to Aquios. The teenager was glad to be back in a large town, hoping for nothing more than a meal and a warm bath. No doubt that the Queen would give them rooms at the castle, but Fayt had always preferred the local taverns to the large, spacious rooms that royal families seemed to love so much.

The teenager was also growing more concerned for Albel. The swordsman hadn't spoken much after they had stopped. He hadn't even given his usual snide remarks concerning Fayt's and Nel's conversations. Albel was also looking pale, paler even than when the swordsman had gotten shot by the Vendeeni during their journey to save the galaxy.

"Fayt?" the blue haired boy heard Nel ask, "Are you ready to speak with her majesty?" the young woman finished, putting her hands on her hips.

"Um, not yet, Nel. Could Albel and I first get our rooms at the tavern?" Fayt said distractedly, glancing over at Albel, who was staring at a group of villagers. Nel sighed.

"Her majesty would greatly appreciate seeing the both of you right away, but I suppose it can wait. The two of you probably need to rest before you speak with her majesty. I'll arrange for two rooms at the tavern on the main street to be saved for you two. I shall expect that you be in the audience chamber in…three hours." Nel said, nodding her head to each before she turned to walk through the castle gates.

Fayt sighed and looked back to Albel, who was watching the same group of villagers as they fought over the price of a large white chicken. The poor bird was squawking and losing its feathers as two men yelled and shook their fists at one another.

"Come on, Albel." Fayt sighed, shaking his head slightly. His older companion could become interested in the strangest of things, sometimes. Albel turned around slowly and fell into step next to the teenager, their feet dragging in exhaustion.

Once they came upon the inn that they were to stay at, Fayt and Albel were taken to their rooms by a short, bustling woman, who said that she was the innkeeper's wife. The woman, it seemed, never stopped talking as she showed Albel first to his room, and then Fayt to his. Their rooms were down the hallway from one another, each one containing one bed and a chair that was set up next to the small fireplace. Fayt closed the door to his room and threw his backpack and sword onto the ground rather clumsily, then collapsed onto his bed, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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"E…Excuse me!" Fayt woke up to a sharp rapping on the door to his room. Groggily, Fayt stood up and stumbled to the door, pulling it open enough to see a young girl standing in the hallway with a frightened look on her face.

"What do you want?" the teenager asked grumpily, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Um, the…the man you came here with, he…he's…" the girl said, fidgeting nervously with the apron that was tied around her small waist.

"What? Albel?" Fayt offered, thinking that his older companion had gotten into trouble with the other guests staying at the inn. The swordsman's temper usually did get them kicked out of the inns that they had tried to stay at in the past, making it almost easier to just sleep outside.

"Y…yes, he…passed out. He fainted a…and the people staying in the rooms next to him reported a loud noise, like a 'thump', coming from his room…" the girl stuttered, glancing from Fayt to the rooms down the hall. Fayt pushed rudely past the small girl, now fully awake, and jogged down the hallway to Albel's room. Pushing open the door, Fayt saw the swordsman sprawled on the ground, an arm tossed over his head. Quickly bending down next to Albel, the teenager put his hand to the older man's forehead, but hurriedly recoiled. Albel was burning up. Fayt stood back up and ran back outside of the room, calling to the young girl and telling her to fetch a doctor. Racing back to Albel's side, the teenager smoothed the wet hair that was plastered to the swordsman's forehead back. Fayt then gingerly moved Albel's arm so that it was lying next to the swordsman's side, noticing that the unconscious man breathed in quickly when he touched Albel's lower arm.

Fayt turned when the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps reached his ears, finding to his relief that a doctor was finally here. The doctor ducked into a crouch next to Fayt when he saw Albel on the ground.

"What happened?" the old doctor asked, his brow furrowing.

"I…I don't know!" Fayt exclaimed, unable to keep the worry from his voice, "He was looking a little pale the last few days that I had been traveling with him, but I hadn't thought it was anything serious…" the teenager trailed, glancing from the doctor to his companion.

"Alright. He seems to be suffering from a very high fever, which we can take care of. I doubt it is anything severe, so don't worry too much." The doctor said, placing a hand on Albel's forehead.

"Wait. I think there might be something more. When I moved his arm, he inhaled quickly, like he was in pain…" Fayt said, pointing to Albel's right arm. The doctor looked down to Albel's arm, then moved away from the swordsman's side so that he could get a better look at where Fayt was pointing to. The doctor rolled up Albel's sleeve, raising his eyebrows when he saw the white bandages tightly wrapped around the swordsman's arm. Looking to Fayt, the doctor looked back down to the bandages when he saw the teenager simply shrug with a surprised look on his face. Quickly unwrapping the bandages, the doctor heard a small gasp come from the boy next to him when Fayt saw the deep gash in Albel's arm.

"Please, leave me and allow me to do my work. This may be even worse than I expected. I shall be sure to notify you if his condition changes…for the better or the worse." The old man said, placing a comforting hand on the blue haired boy's shoulder. Fayt nodded, all the color rushing from his cheeks, and stood, turning to walk towards the door. Looking over his shoulder at Albel one last time, Fayt hung his head and closed the door behind him.

The doctor looked back at the infected wound. Pulling his bag full of medical instruments open, the old man quickly grabbed a couple of jars and brought them nearer to his face, inspecting them closely. Nodding, the doctor set the salves down and put his hand back in the bag, this time bringing out a bright white piece of cloth. Tentatively wiping the wound dry of any blood or puss, the old doctor set the cloth down and grabbed the jar nearest him, twisting the cap off. The doctor then tipped the jar over the wound, a stream of green liquid flowing into the deep gash. Once satisfied with the amount of medicine he had poured over the wound, the doctor reached into his bag and brought out a set of sparkling needles and a spool of thick, medicinal string. Deftly threading a short piece of string through the eye of the needle, the old man started to sew the gaping wound shut. When the doctor had finished tying the last piece of string into a knot, he grabbed the last jar and twisted it open. The thick, waxy salve was spread evenly across the swordsman's arm, covering the stitches. Reaching into his bag once more, the doctor brought out a fresh bandage and wrapped the white cloth tightly around Albel's arm, sighing deeply when he secured the piece of cloth so that it wouldn't fall off. The condition of this patient wasn't good, but at least he was stable for now. The old man promptly packed the tools he had used back in his bag, and stood to go and speak with the blue haired boy.

Once he opened the door, however, Fayt was immediately in front of him, asking the old man questions and straining to see Albel. The doctor put up a hand, asking for the young man's patience, then moved back into the room with Fayt right behind him.

"I'm not one to elude as to what the truth might be, so I'll just come out and say it." The doctor said once he got into the room, "His arm is very infected. I have stabilized his condition, but only Apris knows whether he'll survive. Here, give him this medicine twice every day." the old man said, handing a bottle of liquid to Fayt, "He might wake up in a day or two, should the gods allow. If he doesn't, however, make sure he swallows that medicine. If you notice his condition getting worse, make sure you contact me. I shall be sending my apprentice daily to check on him." The old man finished, moving to stand in front of Fayt, "Now, help me move him onto the bed so that he might be more comfortable."

Fayt nodded and crouched down in front of Albel, grabbing the older man around his shoulders, being careful not to touch his lower arm. The old doctor grabbed the swordsman around his ankles, and together they lifted the slender man off of the ground and moved him to the bed. Once that was done, the doctor looked back to Fayt and nodded.

"The best of luck to you." He said, then left, gently closing the door behind him.

Fayt walked over to the edge of the bed and sat next to Albel, looking down into the swordsman's face. The teenager noticed that Albel's breathing was ragged and that the older man was sweating. Fayt walked back out of the room and into his own, searching his backpack for a spare piece of cloth. Upon finding it, the teenager walked, in a daze, into the common room and asked for a pitcher of water. Taking the cold pottery pitcher back to Albel's room, Fayt dipped the cloth into the cool water and laid it over the swordsman's forehead. The young man was somewhat relieved when he saw Albel's breathing steady, and then sat back down onto the side of the bed.

_"You idiot…"_ Fayt thought, staring into the older man's sleeping face, _"why didn't you tell us that you had gotten hurt?" _the blue haired boy knew the answer to his own question, and smiled grimly when he thought about it. Albel had always been arrogant and prideful, and Fayt doubted that anything could change that.

Yawning loudly, the teenager realized how tired he was. He had gotten maybe an hour of sleep before that young girl had knocked on his door. He hadn't gotten much sleep and was tired…very tired…

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Nel stormed through the streets of Aquios.

_"Those two had better have a good excuse as to why they didn't come…"_ the young woman thought angrily to herself, reliving the embarrassment she had gone through to explain to the busy Queen what had probably happened.

Stomping up the inn's steps, Nel flung the door open and walked up to the innkeeper, jabbing a finger into his face.

"You! What rooms are Fayt Leingod and Albel Nox staying in?" the red haired woman all but yelled, scaring the innkeeper terribly.

"Umm…let's see…Fayt Leingod…yes…Albel Nox…They're staying right down that hallway, ma'am." The innkeeper stuttered, pointing frantically towards the nearest hallway. "The first room on the right is Albel Nox's, and the last door on the left is Fayt Leingod's…" Nel glared towards the hallway and walked away from the flustered innkeeper.

Nel walked quickly towards the nearest door, not caring whether or not it was Albel the Wicked's, and knocked sharply on it. When no reply came, the young woman angrily opened the door and stepped inside of the room, looking around for the tall man.

"Hey…!" Nel started to yell, but stopped abruptly when her eyes fell upon the bed that was in the middle of the room. Albel slept, stretched out on the bed, with an arm tossed lazily around the shoulders of none other than…Fayt. A blanket was wrapped tightly around their two sleeping forms, and was pulled up to their waists. The young woman blushed and ran out of the room, closing the door loudly.

Once she got outside of the smoke filled tavern, Nel started back towards the castle. _Now_ she knew why they hadn't gone to the castle!

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"Mmm…?" Albel moaned, waking up when he heard the noise of a door being slammed. Opening his eyes, the swordsman squinted around the room, trying to figure out what had happened.

_"Oh…yeah. That." _He remembered, looking over to his right arm. Albel knew he had fainted, which annoyed him somewhat. Ah, well, at least Fayt didn't know he had fainted… Albel's eyes widened when he noticed that the pain in his arm had subsided, at least for the time being, and that he was now sleeping in a bed. The older man could have sworn that he had collapsed onto the ground…Then Albel noticed a slight pressure on his left arm. Looking over to the left side of the bed, the older man was stunned to see the top of a certain blue haired boy's head.

_"What the hell…?"_ Albel thought, wondering why the teenager was curled up next to him. The next thing the swordsman realized was that his arm was slung over Fayt's shoulders, which confused him further. He didn't remember putting his arm around Fayt…

Sighing, Albel put his right hand to his forehead, only to feel a cold, wet cloth draped there. Pulling the cloth down from his forehead, the swordsman stared at it in bewilderment for a second before throwing it across the room. Albel didn't know what the hell was going on, but sleeping was easier than trying to figure it out. Closing his eyes decisively, the older man felt himself relax and fall back to sleep, the knowledge that Fayt was sleeping next to him somehow comforting.

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poor, poor Albel. He's so confused...

please review!


	7. Seishiki's Trip

7th chapter, what? Sorry. I just didn't know I would write again so soon...but don't get your hopes up. Now I'm really going to have problems finding time to write... Anyway, I feel the need to apologize about the last chapter...I didn't like it all too much. I think I'll go back and rewrite some of the parts before moving any farther ahead... Wah. Now that that's out of the way, please enjoy!

Seishiki: I bet they don't remember who I am... -tear-

Cappie: Aww, I'm sure they will!

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Seishiki stared intently into the dark, thick liquid. The wide, deep basin that contained the liquid was perched precariously on the edge of an ornately carved table, swaying every now and then until Seishiki had to put out a hand to stop it from falling over and spilling its precious contents. Taking a deep breath, Seishiki plunged his hand into the bowl, rotating his wrist to make small ripples with his hand. The old village leader's breath came in short shallow gasps as he felt the sharp coldness of the liquid pierce his skin and crawl up his arm and towards his shoulder. Seishiki clutched at his chest as he felt the freezing cold reach his shoulder, slowly making its way towards the vital muscle that was pumping faster and faster, trying to stave off this new assault on his body. Bending his head forward, the old man grabbed with resisting fingers a small, stone knife. Seishiki wrenched his hand free of the liquid and made a deep, long slash up his wrist, watching in more fascination as the newly shed blood dripped into the bowl. Grunting in satisfaction as he saw the last droplets of blood fall from his withered wrist, the old man smiled to himself when he felt the coldness seep through his chest, quickly slowing the frantic struggles of his heart. All at once, Seishiki's vision blurred, then turned black as he fell to the ground, the bowl full of blood finally making its descent to the ground and spilling the rich, dark red liquid all over the now still body of the old man. One last breath escaped the lips of the beloved village leader before the coldness seized his heart, stopping its valiant pumping forever.

_Seishiki walked through a long, dark tunnel, stopping every now and then to stare at the grotesque paintings that smattered the walls. It seemed that the King still hadn't changed his tastes in art… Smiling grimly to himself, the old man continued walking._

_A few minutes later, Seishiki found himself in a large, rectangular room. Looking around himself, the old village leader saw that there were sharp edged tables pushed up against the walls of the room…if they could be called walls. Gazing up with half lidded eyes at the walls, Seishiki noticed that they were as he remembered them…bones protruding from a dark brown, uneven cement-like substance. Skulls were also sticking out from the walls, forever grinning and staring into this room. Inhaling deeply through his nose, Seishiki almost gagged when the smell of decay met his nostrils. He had forgotten about that… Continuing on through the room, the old man walked through the high archway that led to the King's chamber. At least it had, when he had been one among the dead. Walking timidly through the archway, Seishiki beheld the exact same chamber room that the King had inhabited. Glancing around for any sign of him, the old man sighed when he saw a high backed chair turned away from him. It was moving ever so slightly. _

_"My lord?" Seishiki asked timidly, walking forward to stand directly behind the chair. The old man almost ran out of the room when the chair suddenly snapped around, revealing the King of the Dead, who, at best, didn't looked pleased. The King of the Dead glared directly at Seishiki, his face only softening a little to reveal some surprise._

_"Who are you?" the King asked bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest._

_"My lord…it's me. Seishiki." The old man answered, lowering his eyes to the ground to escape the King's penetrating glare._

_"Seishiki…? Ahh, yes. Now I remember you." The King sighed in remembrance, unfolding his arms and standing in front of the old village leader. "You, the 'wandering spirit', as some chose to call you. Seishiki, the father to all spirits. Seishiki, the ancient one. Seishiki, the one who was here before the creation of hell. Oh, the list goes on, my friend. But tell me, why have you come back? Last time I checked, I gave you a one way ticked out of this hellhole so that you could 'live amongst the living', or so you had so charmingly put it. Was life not what you expected? Are you disappointed with those who have bodies and are 'alive'? Or perhaps…perhaps it was that you found you couldn't stand to watch those around you die, with disease, during war, old age…perhaps you couldn't stand to watch those you had come to love drop like flies around you while you stayed the same." The King sneered into the old man's face. _

_Seishiki stood with his head lowered before replying. "Please, Polmos, don't speak as if you know everything." _

_The King clenched his fists in anger, then said through clenched teeth, "I thought I had made it painfully clear to never utter my name aloud. If you choose to say it again, I shall have to go through the trouble of…re-teaching my lesson to you." Ah, yes. Seishiki knew that King Polmos didn't want his name to be known by mortals, for if they were to get their hands on his name they could summon him at will…if they knew the correct procedures to take along with his name, of course. Seishiki sighed and nodded his head slowly, remembering all too vividly the tortures he had endured under the hands of his 'beloved' King. _

"_I've come to warn you…my lord." The old man said, slipping back into the proper way the King was to be addressed. Polmos snorted._

"_Warn me? Whatever of?" _

"_There is a man who is intent on seeking you out. He wishes to kill you. I can tell by the way his eyes flash whenever your majesty's name is mentioned…your name being the King of the Dead, of course." Seishiki added, not wanting to make his ugly tempered King angry with him._

"_Oh, that garbage? That…what was it…Airyglyph soldier? Ha! So he has decided to confront me. Good, good. This should prove to be of some interest. At least I will have something to look forward to…" the arrogant King trailed off, rubbing his chin with his left hand, deep in thought._

"_But…my lord!" Seishiki protested, his eyes widening, "I believe he is stronger than the others you have fought with in the past. I believe this man might actually have a chance of defeating you!" _

"_Beat me? And how does he intend on doing that, hmm? I am the King of the Dead after all. King of the Dead! I'm already dead! You should feel foolish for trying to warn me about a human. There is no way a piece of decaying flesh could beat me." The King retorted, growing very angry with this troublesome spirit. "Very well, Seishiki, you've done a splendid job of 'warning' me. Now, please, be on your way." Polmos finished, waving his hand dismissively and turning back to his lavish chair. The old village leader stared at the King of the Dead as he sat back down in his chair, turning it back to the thick desk that was behind it. _

"_Very well, my foolish King." Seishiki said quietly, then turned and left, nothing but the soft swish of his garments betraying his swift exit from the room._

_If Polmos wanted to play the fool, who was Seishiki to stop him? The King had once viewed the old spirit as an equal, but it seemed he did no longer. Seishiki had been in hell long before Polmos had, but hadn't risen up to take over the chaotic place. The old man had never wanted to rule here, no, not here. _

_It was during the revolt that Polmos led when the two dead spirits had met. Polmos had been newly dead, only fifty years, maybe, but had still tried to take over hell. Polmos had been failing miserably with his revolution, losing terribly to Letek, who was the King of the Dead at the time, when he had heard about 'the ancient one'. 'The ancient one' was very powerful. 'The ancient one' would ensure their victory. The only problem was, 'the ancient one' didn't enjoy warfare, especially in hell._

_In hell, since everybody is already dead, the only way you can 'win' a war is by capturing all of your enemies. This is very challenging, since once you capture a spirit, what are you to do with it? Letek had thrown them into massive structures, not unlike dungeons, and had left some of his men to guard the doors. But for Polmos, that would have meant sacrificing some of his men to babysitting, and this he wouldn't allow. The conniving man thought up a way to 'disable' the spirits so that they wouldn't be able to move. He had made devices of which hell had never seen in order to 'suck the spirit's core' out of them, rendering them nothing but floating, thoughtless things. Once he had perfected his device, the war had started turning in his favor, but not enough to his liking. He wanted more 'death', more sorrow, more chaos. So naturally, when he heard of this 'ancient one', he automatically sought Seishiki out, wanting to enlist the aid of such a great spirit. Seishiki had been reluctant at first, sticking with his original beliefs about war, until Polmos had offered him something which he couldn't refuse. Polmos had declared rather boldly that he knew of a way to return to the world of the living. If only Seishiki would help him, Polmos would be willing to help him become alive again…_

_Seishiki sighed, nearing the end of his journey out of hell. Apparently, Seishiki had helped Polmos, but when the King of the Dead had said 'alive', he really meant he knew of a way back into the land of the living, allowing Seishiki to drift aimlessly through the hordes of breathing, eating and drinking people. It was Seishiki who had figured out on his own how to 'possess' a person, by merely spreading his spirit into their brain and taking over their bodies. It wasn't the same as being alive, however. Seishiki didn't need to eat, sleep, or drink. He only did these trivial things so that no one would become suspicious of him. To tell the truth, the old man couldn't taste, and he couldn't feel warmth or coldness. He wasn't able to do most of the things that normal people could. _

Sighing as he stepped back through the gate that barred the way to hell, Seishiki found himself squinting into the brilliant light of day. Now that he had killed the last body he had possessed, he would need to find a new one. Taking a step in the direction of a nearby village he had heard of, Seishiki decided to forget all about his arrogant King of the Dead.

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Fayt awoke to a slight stirring in his hair. Opening his eyes and glancing up, the teenager found to his surprise that Albel's head had fallen to the side, making it so that whenever the swordsman exhaled, his breath would play with Fayt's hair. Smiling lazily, the blue haired boy started to fall back asleep…before he realized that he was sharing a bed with Albel. Snapping his bright green eyes back open, Fayt slowly eased himself away from the swordsman's warm body, making sure not to disturb the older man. Sitting on the foot of the bed, the teenager put his head in his hands. He must have accidentally fallen asleep from exhaustion yesterday evening…

Standing up, Fayt walked over to the pitcher of water, which was sitting on the edge of the bedside table as he had left it, the green eyed teenager cupped his hands and dipped them in the water. Pulling his hands back out slowly, so that he wouldn't spill the water that was cradled in his hands, Fayt splashed the water in his face, attempting to wake himself up. Fayt rubbed his wet hands through his vivid blue hair after he was done splashing his face, trying to smooth down the few strands that were sticking out at odd angles. Sighing, the teenager leaned up against the wall of the tavern and closed his eyes.

_"I guess I should go and apologize to Nel…"_ Fayt thought, wondering what had ever become of the meeting they had promised they would attend. Looking back to Albel, the blue haired boy decided not to wake him, seeing as he was sick and needed his rest. Tiptoeing to the doorway, Fayt took one last look at the sleeping swordsman before he shut the door quietly behind him.

Fayt walked slowly down the street, enjoying the brisk morning air more than he ever had before. Inhaling deeply, the teenager felt his head clear as the clean, fresh air entered his lungs, and he sighed gratefully. He would need to be clear headed when confronting the Queen of Aquios, at the very least. The stern Queen demanded attention, and if she caught Fayt straying from the conversation, she would be sure to direct him back towards it. The blue haired boy smiled when he remembered the Queen of Aquios, her red eyes so assuring, so calm and peaceful, and yet the woman who wore the eyes was very strict and stern, though forgiving. Her eyes…so much like Albel's blood red eyes, and yet so different. Albel's eyes always seemed to carry in them a hatred that would never disappear, always something that lingered behind their glossy exterior. The cruel swordsman's eyes were very expressive, however, and Fayt had sometimes fancied himself seeing in them emotions other than hate, emotions such as pity, sadness, or joy. Very rarely did Fayt see these expressions in Albel's eyes, and he still doubted himself whenever he thought he had.

The green eyed teenager stopped abruptly when he realized that he had almost walked straight into the side of the castle. Pulling himself away from his daydreams, Fayt walked over to the nearest guard who was positioned at the gate and asked the half asleep man whether or not he would be allowed to see the Queen. The bearded guard mumbled something about how Lady Nel wanted to speak with him as soon as he arrived at the castle, so Fayt decided to visit the red haired warrior before trying to get an audience with the Queen.

Walking through the large, stone gateway, the teenager glanced around at the surrounding garden. Although Aquios was chilly during the evenings and early mornings, there were still flowers that fought the weather to show off their dazzling colors. There were purple, blue, and red flowers, almost any color and shape of flower that one could ever hope to see in their lifetime. These brightly colored plants intertwined and, over the years, had woven themselves together to form a sort of net that covered the lush, green grass. The fountains that were placed around the garden sparkled with clear, crystalline water that reflected the multi-colored paradise around it. The blue haired boy, upon realizing that he had slowed his pace, walked quickly inside of the castle, leaving the luscious garden behind him.

Fayt rounded the corner of the hallway that led to Nel Zelpher's room, noting the many brilliant paintings that hung on the white washed stone walls. Ancient faces stared out of gilded frames as he passed the paintings by, noticing with a slight start that almost all of these men and women had red eyes. Inspecting the painting nearest him more thoroughly, Fayt found to his amazement that not only did they have red eyes, most of them had the pale complexion and kind smile that the Queen of Aquios had. It wasn't just that, though…there was something more. It wasn't uncommon for castles to have paintings of the royal family and ancestors displayed for the public to view, and yet something seemed strange about these paintings…

"Ah, Fayt. I see you have finally decided to join us. I must say, your absence yesterday was quite unexpected." A strong, female voice met the blue haired teenager's ears, almost making him jump. He had been so deeply engrossed with the paintings that he hadn't heard Nel walk up to him.

"Oh, yeah. Listen, Nel, about that…I'm really sorry. Last night Albel fell ill from a wound that was on his arm. He apparently didn't tell us because of his stubbornness, but I'm afraid it almost cost him his life." Fayt said, bowing slightly.

"…I see." The young woman said, staring the blue haired boy up and down, "Well then, since Albel's sick, I suppose the Queen will just have to wait until he gets well enough to meet with her. She so desperately wants to see the both of you at the same time… I shall go inform this of her right away. You might have to stay here longer than expected, so please enjoy your stay in Aquios." The warrior finished with a slight nod of her head, before she turned and headed up the stairs that led to the second floor of the castle. Fayt sighed as he watcher her leave, wondering what he should do with his free day off.

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"…maggots…" Albel mumbled, looking disgustedly at the food he had received from a young serving girl. The swordsman used the term 'food' lightly, however, because what sat on a plate in front of him in no way resembled what Albel would even consider choking down his throat. Sneering as he pushed the plate heaped high with what seemed to be carrion, the swordsman glared at the door the serving girl had so recently exited, wishing that he had thrown the rancid meat back into her face and demanded some proper food. Albel wasn't one to shout, however, and wasn't really all that hungry, so he let the matter drop. Turning his gaze to the small window that lead outside, the swordsman stared out into the brightening day. The townspeople were starting to wake and market stands were being brought out in hopes that a rich visitor would buy some rug or gem that would no doubt cost the poor fool who bought it the rest of their life's savings. Albel wanted to leave this damned inn, but something had told him to stay. Maybe he wasn't quite recovered from his illness, because the swordsman was starting to feel dizzy again. Trying to focus on something other than the spinning table that carried upon it the disgusting plate full of food, Albel looked back towards the door, thinking he heard someone trying to open it.

"Go away, worm." The swordsman jeered, thinking it to be the daft serving girl with another plate brimming with more nauseating food. When the door opened, however, Albel was surprised to see an old, crouched figure coming in through the door.

"Still as hospitable as always, I see…" an old voice, cracking with age, chuckled. The old man stood up, revealing that he wasn't bent with age as he had seemed to be when he was coming in through the door, but was actually in good shape. His chest was still broad and his hands were steady as he reached to pull his cloak hood back.

"What are you doing here, old man?" Albel sighed, not wanting his father figure to see him in his weakened state. "Have you come to pester me with more tales of times long ago, as you so often did in the past? I assure you, I am too old to want to hear such nonsense." The swordsman finished, his voice hissing as though his throat was too dry to talk.

"No, boy, I have not come to entertain you with my old war talk. I come on a very serious matter that I did not think should be left alone any longer, whether you are sick or not." Woltar said evenly, staring directly into the younger man's face. Albel shrugged and crossed his arms, apparently waiting for the old man to continue. "I have been having dreams of…the most disturbing nature. Your parents are in them, Albel. They are scared for you and are trying to warn me of something that is to come, but I can't quite grasp their meaning…" Woltar trailed off, watching as the swordsman snapped his cold glare over the old man at the mention of his parents.

"What did you say, old man? How long have you been having these dreams?" the younger man asked, his brow furrowing.

"For five straight weeks I have been having these dreams. For five weeks I have been trying to understand them. Please, just listen to what I have to say without interruption. It will be easier that way." The old man pleaded, and, seeing Albel nod his head slowly, continued on, "Yes, your parents are so vivid in my mind that I fear they are alive sometimes as I wake up from my dreams. No, no not dreams. They are nightmares. Your parents, Albel, are always decaying in my nightmares, as if they have been dug up from their graves. I know they are dead, and yet this doesn't disturb me as it should. When I wake up, I know that they cannot be alive and that both of them are dead, but I am convinced in my nightmares that they are living corpses, the animated dead. Call them whatever you want, but one fact remains the same: they are certain that you are in danger. They torment me with questions of which I have no answers to. They ask me what you are doing, why you are doing it. They express great sorrow and terror at the same time as they whisper their strangled thoughts into my mind. Please, Albel, confide in me. What are you doing that would cause your parents to come back from their graves to haunt me like this? Or, if not, what are you doing that would cause me to dream such terrible nightmares?" Woltar finished, his eyes narrowing when he saw the look on the younger man's face. Albel stared at the bed he was sitting on for a while, his face entirely placid, as if no emotions were running through him. Slowly, the swordsman raised his head to look back at Woltar before answering.

"Get out." Albel said quietly, all traces of contempt or malice erased from his voice.

"No. Not until you answer my questions, boy, for I will not lose another night of sleep over your problems." Woltar said coldly, though he wasn't really angry with Albel. In the past, the old man had found that the easiest way to get through to the stubborn boy was to be just as stubborn as he was.

"Get out, old man." The swordsman said, his voice soon becoming louder.

"You _must _tell me, boy, for if you don't your poor parents will never go back to their eternal rest. They will forever be wandering without a purpose." Woltar fired back, his voice staying as steady as it was when he had first got here.

"I'm not going to tell you three times, old man. If you're not out of here by the time I draw my sword from its scabbard, I'll make sure the maids will have a hell of a time cleaning up the mess I will make of you." Albel growled deeply in his throat, reaching over to the side of his bed and bringing the sword closer to him. Woltar frowned. He did not doubt the younger man, especially when he was in a foul mood such as he was. Standing up from his seat by the fireplace, the old man pulled the cloak's hood back up around his face.

"Very well, boy. I shall leave you now, seeing as you are sick and obviously not feeling well. However, I beg of you, stop whatever madness it is that you are experimenting with. Do not tempt fate." The old man said, turning to leave.

Albel watched Woltar leave, his shoulders relaxing as he set the Crimson Scourge back down to the ground. Pulling his feet back up onto the bed, the swordsman turned to lay on his side, his back facing the door. Albel reached down to the edge of his bed and grabbed the thin blanket that lay there, wrapping it around himself.

_"…rotten old man…"_ was all the young swordsman thought before falling back into a fitful sleep, spattered with images from his childhood.

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Yay! Please review!


	8. POWA!

comes in chanting Chapter 8, chapter 8, chapter 8! Yay! Umm...please review after you have read this...PLEASE! (you'll know why soon enough) Read on, mon amie! God! Show me maaaaaaagic! (Superfurry Animals, dudes)

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Fayt assumed his training position, sitting down cross legged on the damp grass. Setting his sword to the side, the young boy closed his eyes, reaching inside of himself to find those two forever present forces. Once he found the glowing weave of his soul and powers, he sat back and sighed. The blue haired boy still hadn't found out how to control his power, and it was starting to frustrate him.

Fayt reached up to his forehead and wiped the sweat that had gathered there away from his eyes, smoothing some stray pieces of hair back. Setting his jaw in determination, the teenager put his arm forward, attempting once more to grab the snake-like energy in front of him. He winced in pain when the energy shocked him once again and rubbed his arm, looking back at the twisting forces. What was he supposed to do?

A few minutes later, the young boy felt a strange sensation slithering its way up his arm. Staring down, Fayt realized that it felt as if his arm was slowly freezing, a biting cold making its way to his shoulder. The blue haired boy began to panic as he felt it seep up his shoulder and make its way through his chest, and, without thinking, plunged his hand into the net of his soul and power. Fayt gritted his teeth as pain coursed through his body, his mind flashing in brilliant bursts of light. Snapping his gaze back to the mass of energy in front of him, the teenager realized that his hand was moving in a circular motion, almost like it was mixing his power and soul together…

Suddenly, the pain that had run through his body only a moment ago ceased, and Fayt was sitting still, staring in amazement at what used to be the individual weaves of energy. Now, instead of being able to pick out his soul from his power, there was a bright mass of light that seemed as one energy source. Breathing in deeply, Fayt stood up and walked towards it, his brow furrowing in confusion. What had happened only a moment ago? It seemed almost as if someone else was thinking for him, telling him what to do, controlling him. Opening his eyes to the outside world, Fayt checked to make sure that no one had been around. Glancing to his left and right, the teenager saw the small forest just as he had left it. He was still sitting on a large boulder that was half buried into the ground, and the tall redwood trees were still swaying soothingly in the warm breeze. Standing up, the blue haired boy stared at his hands as he opened and closed them, wondering if anything had changed.

Closing his eyes once more, Fayt focused on the large boulder that now lay in front of him, trying to remember back to the time when he had destroyed the Vendeeni ship with his power. The teenager remembered feeling angry at being so utterly helpless to prevent what had been happening around him, the chaos and death that the Vendeeni wrought upon the medieval planet with their advanced technology. He also remembered feeling guilty that he had brought about the death of so many, him being the one that the Vendeeni had been after.

Slipping back into those feelings, Fayt broke out into a cold sweat, the emotions washing over him. Still concentrating on the boulder, the teenager felt a small tug at his soul, then more pain as the tugging didn't stop. Doubling over, the blue haired boy looked up just in time to see the boulder start to glow in a bright, white light, before it disappeared all together without a sound. Fayt's vision blurred and he fell to the ground, the world turning black for a moment before his sight returned to him. Sitting up slowly as he placed a hand to his head, the teenager looked straight ahead of him in amazement. He had finally figured it out. Smiling faintly to himself, Fayt stared at the large hole in the ground and listened as the forest surrounding him grew eerily silent.

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Albel tossed a stray lock of hair out of his face as he walked slowly through the large stone gateway that led him out of Aquios. The older man had left early that morning, taking tender care so that he wouldn't wake his foolish companion. He couldn't afford to make _that_ mistake again.

Staring ahead, Albel watched in satisfaction as two guards stumbled out of his way, no doubt having heard the rumors that Albel the Wicked was in their fair city. Grinning lopsidedly, the swordsman narrowed his eyes as he passed the frightened guards.

_"Stupid maggots…"_ he thought, stepping out from underneath the arch. Looking up into the sky, Albel noted that it was hardly past sunrise, as the colors in the sky still had a purple tint to them, night not yet willing to give way to the bright, blue sky of day.

The swordsman had decided to leave Aquios that morning when he had woken up, and the impulsive man had acted upon his whims. It revolted him to be around Woltar in a way that Albel couldn't explain, much less understand. His long time father figure had sickened him last night, creating in the swordsman a sort of panic, and a feeling that he needed to escape. Albel had also decided not to tell Fayt, since the boy would only pester him with questions on why they were leaving. No, the stubborn kid would probably have demanded that Albel stay, telling him that he wasn't better yet and that they still hadn't visited the Queen. Well, damn the Queen and damn Woltar. They both disgusted him with their trivial matters. And as for his blue haired companion, no doubt Albel was still curious as to what had happened after the fight with the Creator, but not that curious.

Albel started walking down the trodden path that led to Peterny, as he had decided to stop by the trading town to gather supplies. His own supplies had grown appallingly low over the course of his journeys with Fayt.

After a few minutes of walking, the swordsman stopped and raised an eyebrow as he stared down at his arm. It was throbbing once again and Albel saw to his annoyance red blood seeping through the bandages. He must have torn his stitches out while he was shifting his sack. Grabbing the last of his own bandages out of his bag, Albel removed the other white cloth. Sure enough, a few of his stitches were torn, his skin opening to reveal raw flesh underneath. Angrily wrapping his arm once more, Albel made a mental note that he would also have to see another doctor once he got to Peterny, because he definitely wasn't heading back to Aquios.

The swordsman started walking once more, only to be stopped by a shout.

"Wait! Albel, please wait!" Fayt yelled from the gateway that lead back to Aquios, starting to run. The older man swore under his breath and turned his back on the approaching figure in disgust. Why was it that every damned time Albel left, the boy always seemed to know? The swordsman heard the younger boy's rapidly approaching footsteps slow as he stopped to catch his breath. They were only a few feet apart now, the younger man quickly catching up with Albel, who was feeling slightly dizzy from his reopened wound.

"Albel, what…? Ah, your arm…" Fayt said, pointing to the blood soaked cloth that was still lying on the ground.

"Go back, Leingod." The swordsman sneered, dropping his sack back to the ground and crossing his arms over his chest.

"What are you doing? Where are you going? We have to go and meet with the Queen. The meeting has already been arranged…" Fayt continued, reaching over and grabbing Albel on his left arm.

"I'm not going back to that damned city," the older man hissed, pulling his arm sharply from the boy's hand.

"Why not? Albel, what's wrong?" Fayt said, staring confusedly into the swordsman's face.

"It doesn't concern you, fool." Albel muttered, staring at the dirt path. Fayt sighed and put his hands on his hips.

"We have to go back, Albel. You're wounded. Now, let's go back and get the doctor, you're looking pale again…" the blue haired boy said, with a sense of finality to his voice.

"Heh…I'd like to see you try and force me to go back to that cursed city." Albel hissed, his voice reflecting his thoughts of a battle between the two companions.

"Fine. Either you come peaceably with me now or I drag you back to Aquios, you choose." Fayt said, his temper quickly running thin.

"Oh? And how do you propose on doing that, worm?" the swordsman said, his eyebrow arching in amusement.

Fayt glared at Albel before taking a step towards the older man. Albel's voice, however, stopped the blue haired boy's footsteps.

"Why do you care what happens to me, maggot? Why are you always so damned concerned with my affairs?" the swordsman growled, his voice showing nothing but contempt as he pressed forward, "or perhaps it is because you can't stand being parted from me for more than five minutes. Perhaps it is because you have 'feelings' for me. If this is true, fool, then you have fallen in love with the wrong person."

Albel watched in mild amusement as Fayt stared at the ground, clenching and unclenching his fists. The older man had expected the teenager to fall silent at his last remark, but what he hadn't expected was that Fayt would suddenly snap his head up and glare at him. The blue haired boy narrowed his eyes and quickly reached out with his hand, grabbing the short chain attached to the metal collar that was around the swordsman's long neck.

Pulling Albel's face close to his, Fayt said in a hushed, barely audible whisper, "We're going back to Aquios whether you like it or not, Albel." Then turned and yanked heavily on the chain that was still in his grasp, making the swordsman stumble and almost fall. The older man regained his balance, however, and when he did, roughly pulled the chain that was attached at his throat from the teenager's strong grasp. Fayt turned around in astonishment, only to be pushed violently up against a tree.

Albel stood closely in front of the blue haired boy, leaning an arm on the bark above Fayt's head, as he was dizzy from his quick movements.

"Nice try, Leingod." Albel whispered, looking down into the younger man's face. Bright green eyes glared up into blood red ones, meeting for a breathless moment before Albel leaned in closer, gently pressing his lips to Fayt's.

The teenager's eyes widened in surprise as the swordsman kissed him, not knowing that the cruel man was even capable of such gentle acts. Albel had only meant to tease the younger boy, but when he heard Fayt's small gasp of surprise, he leant in closer, the predator in him awakening. Raising his free arm, the swordsman wrapped his long fingers around Fayt's delicate neck and squeezed ever so slightly, pulling his fingers back and running his nails across the nape of the teenager's neck. Fayt gasped again, and this time the older man took the opportunity to slide his tongue across the young man's silky lips and into his mouth, feeling Fayt shudder beneath him.

Fayt groaned when he felt the combined heat of Albel's warm tongue slowly slipping into his mouth and the older man's yielding body pressed closely to his own. The teenager closed his eyes and lifted his arms up, wrapping them around Albel's neck and digging one of his hands into the swordsman's thick mane of hair, gently pushing so that their lips were pressed closer together as Fayt returned Albel's heated kiss.

Albel's and Fayt's warm breath mingled together as the swordsman pulled away, the two young men panting as they tried to regain the oxygen that had been stolen from their lungs. The older man straightened, finally realizing what had happened. Looking back down into Fayt's flushed face, the swordsman smirked, trying to reclaim his composure.

"Hmph." The swordsman said, turning around and walking back onto the path, bending to grab the sack that he had left discarded on the ground. "Well, are you coming or not, fool?" Albel asked slyly, starting back in the direction he had come. Fayt smiled gratefully and jogged until he was even with his companion, finding a sudden fascination with his fingernails as he tried to distract himself.

_"Bah." _Albel thought to himself as he glanced over at the blue haired boy, _"I thought that I had better control over such base emotions…" _Shaking his head slightly, the older man started back to Aquios, not admitting to himself that whatever awaited him there would probably be easier with his young, blue haired companion at his side.

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"Ah, Fayt, Albel, thank you for meeting with me." The Queen of Aquios said as she watched the two men enter the room. The travelers stopped at the beginning of the stairs that led to the dais upon which Romera's throne sat, Albel looking annoyed and Fayt agitated. "Is something the matter, Fayt?" the red eyed woman said, noticing how the younger man was shuffling his feet nervously.

"N…no, your majesty." The blue haired boy answered, snapping his head up to make eye contact with the Queen. "I'm just embarrassed that we had to make you reschedule our meeting once again, as we were late yesterday." Fayt closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. Albel, it seemed, had already forgotten about the incident that had happened yesterday, but with Fayt, it was a different story. The teenager couldn't forget the feeling of the older man's body pressed intimately against his own, how Albel's tongue had snaked in between the younger man's lips and had caressed Fayt's tongue with heated passion. When the swordsman had finally broken the kiss, he had pulled away only slightly so that he was still only a few inches from Fayt's head. The look in Albel's heavily lidded eyes seemed to be that of desire mixed with shock, as if he didn't know whether to stop with just the kiss or to press onward...

Fayt blushed deeply and bowed his head to further conceal the color that was rising in his cheeks. He glanced to Albel, who was regarding him with an eyebrow raised, and looked back to the Queen.

"Well, don't feel too distressed, as it didn't prove to be much of a problem. I had Nel rearrange my meetings and it all worked out quite nicely, to tell the truth. However, as it is we are already wasting precious time. Please, listen to what I have to say before you press me with questions…"

Romera stretched out her hand to receive a few sheets of parchment, handed to her by Lasselle. Clearing her throat softly, the Queen continued, "I received this letter a week ago, and have been waiting anxiously until I could tell you of its contents. So, I ask you again, please listen and don't interrupt, as it is a long winded letter…"

Fayt stood with his mouth agape as Romera finished her letter, staring pointedly at Albel. The Dead? What was the Queen talking about? Surely the swordsman wouldn't be daft enough as to try and open the gates of Hell, as the letter suggested. The former Captain of the Black Brigade stood stock-still, staring with disgust at the fragile Queen.

"A…Albel?" Fayt whispered, watching as the older man glared once more, then turned about and began to walk away. "Albel!" the blue haired boy yelled, reaching out to grab his arm. The swordsman's head snapped about and red eyes glared into the teenager's face.

"If you'll permit this interruption…" Romera said softly from her throne as she stood up, her voice echoing off of the marble walls, "Albel, it is true that I cannot pass judgment upon you since you are not of my country, but are the contents of this letter correct? Are you really intending to open the gates to Hell?" Albel wrenched his arm free of Fayt's grasp and narrowed his eyes as he turned back around to face the commanding woman.

"Hmph. Why should I tell you worms?" he said, his eyes flashing threateningly.

"Please, Albel. Just tell us." The teenager at his side said quietly, looking from the Queen to Albel.

"Bah. You're all maggots. It doesn't matter if I am, though, is it? There's nothing really that you and your pathetic soldiers can do to stop me, _Romera_, since I am not of your country, as you said." The arrogant swordsman said, emphasizing the Queen of Aquios' name as he said it informally.

"Now I see where you earned the name 'Albel the Wicked'." Romera mused, tapping a thin finger against her chin in contemplation. "Very well, Albel. I can't be the one to stop you from this mad errand, but I have already informed your King of Airyglyph. I shall leave it in his hands to pass verdict upon you. Let me try to warn you away from this path, as my informant has. Don't get involved with this. There is nothing to be gained. I'm sure that your parents would be weeping if they were to see you getting mixed up with the King of the Dead. That is all." The Queen dismissed them with a knowing glance towards Albel before turning her back upon the seething swordsman. Fayt followed the older man as he walked quickly towards the tall doors that led out to the long hallway.

"That maggot! She has no right to tell me what I can and cannot do! And she speaks of my parents as if she knows them…" Albel fumed once he pushed the doors open roughly, not waiting for the guards to slowly open the doors for them. Fayt sighed and closed his eyes as he leaned up against the wall outside of the audience chamber, waiting for the swordsman's rant to be over with.

"Hey, kid! I didn't expect to find you here!" Fayt heard a familiar voice say, and snapped open his eyes to see Cliff standing a few feet away from him, the Klausian's arms crossed loosely.

"Cliff? What are you doing here?" the blue haired boy asked incredulously, walking over and clapping his old friend on the shoulder.

"Eh, just thought I'd stop by and give good ol' Queen Romera a visit. Everyone's been worried about you, though, kid. Where have you been? What have you been doing?" the Klausian asked, returning Fayt's greeting.

"Um, not much." The teenager said, glancing over to see Albel stop his tirade long enough to glare at the blue haired boy, as Fayt had used his expression. "I've just been wandering around with Albel, is all. Not a lot has happened, to tell you the truth." Fayt said, deciding to stay away from the subject of which they had just gotten out of discussion about. Cliff nodded and smiled warmly, then looked over to the pacing swordsman behind him.

"Uh, hey Albel. How's it goin'?" the blonde asked with a nod of his head, trying his hardest to keep the peace between him and the younger man. Albel looked to Fayt and smiled widely, his eyes narrowed with amusement.

"It's been…interesting." He said, coming to a stop and resting his wrist on the hilt of his katana. Cliff shrugged and turned back to Fayt, who fidgeting uneasily once again.

"So…I was wondering…are you done here? Do you want to come back to Earth with me to see Mirage, Maria and Sophia? They've all been really worried about you, kid. You've caused quite a scare on our usually peaceful world." Cliff said, his eyebrows creasing at his friend's sudden nervousness. Fayt flinched when the Klausian mentioned Sophia, and lowered his eyes to the carpeted floor.

"Yeah…listen, about that…I'm not quite ready to leave Elicoor, yet." The teenager said sternly, lifting his eyes once again to meet Cliff's blue ones, "I still have some things I want to do here. But I promise that once I'm done that I'll come and find you guys on Earth." The boy finished, turning to look over his shoulder at Albel, who was smirking and obviously waiting for the blonde haired ox to leave. "So…it was really nice seeing you again, Cliff. I hope that the next time we meet I'll be able to talk longer, but right now, I've got to go." He said, turning and walking quickly to Albel.

"Hey, wait up, Fayt! What's the hurry, kid?" Cliff reached out and grabbed Fayt's shoulder, making the young boy turn back to face him. "I'm worried about you. You haven't even bothered to call me on the communicator. Is something the matter, kid? We all told you that you don't need to be so hard on yourself about Soph…" Cliff was cut off by the teenager's sudden outburst, Fayt quickly covering the older Klausian's mouth with his hand.

"Uh…uh yeah! Listen, Cliff, let's go talk over here…" the blue haired boy said, leading the confused man away from the even more confused Albel.

The two men rounded the corner of the hallway before Fayt turned around, his eyes falling heavily upon Cliff's.

"I'm not avoiding you, Cliff, if that's what you think. I have to sort some things out, so I would appreciate it if you would leave me to it." The teenager said, feeling awful that he would have to tell his best friend that he didn't want his company.

"Okay, kid, I can leave you alone…but I can't leave you here with…_that_ guy!" Cliff said, jerking his thumb in the direction of Albel, who was still standing in the hallway that they had just come from. "I don't trust him. He's too unpredictable." The Klausian said, crossing his arms and sighing raggedly.

"I can't leave him just yet, Cliff. I'm glad that you're worried for me, but I can take care of myself. You've been a good friend, Cliff, don't make me explain my reasoning to you. I'm not entirely sure I understand it myself. Please, just leave. I'm sorry that I can't clarify any of this for you, but I just can't. I'll keep my promise from before. Now, please leave." The teenager said, turning and leaving the Klausian to mull over these words by himself.

Once Fayt had left, Cliff growled and punched his hand into a cupped fist. He wouldn't give up just yet.

Walking sharply back down the hallway, the angry man threw the doors to the audience chamber open, walking stiffly towards the dais that the surprised Queen was sitting upon. Like _hell_ he would give up that easily.

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Albel and Fayt trudged up the stairs that led to the tavern's entrance, the younger of the two walking with his head bowed. When the swordsman got to the room he had been staying in, the teenager was surprised to see the older man gesture for him to follow. Fayt swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat when he heard the ominous 'click' of the door closing as Albel gently shut it behind him. Albel turned slowly, regarding the younger man with a strange glare.

"What are you doing here, Leingod?" the swordsman asked, his voice sounding somewhat subdued, though from what, Fayt couldn't tell.

"What do you mean? You gestured for me to…" the blue haired boy was broken off by a loud sigh from Albel.

"No, fool. I know why you are _here_ in my room. What I want to know is why you are _here _on Elicoor II." Albel watched in amusement as the younger man shuffled his feet nervously. Crossing his arms, the swordsman stared at Fayt, waiting for an answer. The teenager sighed deeply before answering the older man's question, looking up to meet Albel's stony gaze with his sea green eyes.

"Does it really matter? If it does, then don't expect to get an answer from me, Albel, because you won't." the blue haired boy said, watching for the swordsman's reaction.

"Heh. I knew you would say something like that, Leingod. Always trying to avoid the questions that I put to you. I hate worms who aren't even bold enough to admit a fault of theirs. Do you want to know your errors, Fayt? You're too preoccupied with everyone else around you. I've seen how you always tend to others wounds before yours, even if the injury you carry is far worse than theirs. You try to get wrapped up in others lives so that you don't have to face your own. You don't want to admit to yourself that you're the embodiment of destruction, something despised and reviled by most. You're afraid that once you realize what you are that you will have nobody else in the universe to become preoccupied with. You're weak, pathetic and above all else a coward. You revolt me." Albel sneered, staring with scorn at the teenager, who had stayed silent throughout the older man's torment. Fayt looked up at the swordsman in confusion. Hadn't Albel just been kissing him yesterday? And now the swordsman is saying that Fayt revolts him… The older man snorted when he figured out why the younger man was confused. "Don't let one little kiss go to your head, fool. I was feverish and didn't think about what I was doing. Or did you actually think that I would fall in love with you and stay with you forever?" Albel said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Fayt's eyes widened as he stared at the malicious man, then lowered his head and clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.

"You're contradicting yourself, Albel." The young boy said quietly, staring calmly at the swordsman, "When you say that you hate those who aren't brave enough to admit their faults, I think that _you_ are the one who is avoiding their past mistakes. Don't blame others for the same blunder you yourself have. I'm leaving, so don't try to stop me. You've gone too far this time, Albel." Fayt finished, turning his back slowly to the surprised man.

"Me trying to stop you? I believe it was the other way around…" the older man didn't get to finish his sentence, however, before the soft 'click' of the door marked Fayt's leaving. Albel stood for a few minutes, trying to gather his wits about him. When he did, he realized that his young companion really wasn't coming back this time.

_"Finally."_ Albel thought, smirking to himself, _"I was wondering when the maggot would leave…"_ the swordsman glanced around at his room that suddenly seemed cold and bare without the presence of Fayt. Bowing his head, the older man put an arm around his stomach, trying vainly to stop the sickening feeling that had begun to rise in his stomach.

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Ugh...sooo sleeeepppyyyy...PLEASE REVIEW! I LOVE YOU ALL! MUAH!


	9. Peterny

9 chapters, wow! I didn't think I would be able to make it this far! Thanks for all the splendid reviews you all gave me! It does my heart good to know that I have at least a few people who read my story who are outside of my family...-sniff sniff -Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

(A/N: I'm surprised that Seishiki has stayed in my story this long. I, at first, had only put him in as a bit part, but he ended up being one of the main characters! That just goes to show you how sporadic I am.)

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Fayt hung his head sadly as he passed through the stone gateway that led to the castle. Hefting his pack higher up onto his shoulders, the teenager squared his jaw and walked through the hallways, heading for Nel Zelpher's room as he decided it would be rude to leave without at least saying something to the young woman. Fayt highly doubted that Albel would tell her, even if she did ask him.

Softly rapping on her door, Fayt heard slight shuffling inside of the room before the door opened to reveal the young, red haired warrior.

"Fayt? What are you doing here?" Nel asked, surprised at the young man's unexpected appearance.

"Nel, I'm really sorry about this, but I have to leave. I actually plan to be out of Aquios in a few minutes." Nel raised her eyebrows and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

"Is something the matter? Anything I can help you with?" Nel asked hopefully, wanting to aid her friend through any means possible. Fayt shook his head sadly, blue locks falling into his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Was all he could say before turning his back on the confused woman.

Nel sighed and shook her head slightly, praying silently to Apris for the young man's wellbeing.

The blue haired boy ran quickly down the main street of Aquios, dodging the people as they threw insults and curses at him. Fayt wanted nothing more than to be out of this town. Albel had made the teenager acknowledge the fears that he had thought were buried deep within him, forcing him to realize that they were all true. Narrowing his eyes, Fayt felt his chest constrict, making it hard for him to breath. Nothing mattered anymore. The teenager knew that everyone he had traveled with now thought he was nothing more than a weapon. He was useless. There was nothing that could be done to undo the DNA experiment that had been performed on Maria, Sophia and himself. What was the point anymore? To be a living weapon despised by everyone? Fayt clenched his teeth and continued on through the gateway, almost running into the man who was walking slowly in front of him.

"Whoa! Watch it, pal!" the teenager heard a deep voice say, looking up to find Cliff staring down into his face. "Where are you goin', Fayt?" the Klausian asked, holding the blue haired boy in front of him at arms length.

"I'm leaving, Cliff. I suppose I should have tried to tell you, also, but it slipped my mind. You don't have to worry about me traveling with Albel anymore." Fayt rambled, thinking how he could barely recognize his own voice. It seemed changed somehow, thick with sorrow and hatred.

"You're not jokin', are ya kid?" the older man asked, dropping his arms to his sides, "Where will you go?" Fayt shook his head despondently, looking past his friends shoulder.

"I'll probably just travel Elicoor for a while, alone." The blue haired boy said, moving to walk past the blonde. "Oh, and Cliff? Thanks." He said without a backward glance, wanting nothing more than to get his goodbyes over with. The Klausian shook his head and smiled, pulling something out of the pouch that was strapped to his waist.

"No prob, kid. Don't forget you can always call me." Cliff said, pointing to the communicator that he had fished from his pouch. "Promise me that you'll contact me if you ever get into any trouble, or if you want to come back to Earth." Fayt smiled thinly and nodded his head.

"Sure, I promise." He said, then continued to run out of the bustling town.

Fayt stopped and bent over, trying to catch his breath. He had been running for 20 minutes, and his stomach felt as if it would turn itself inside out. Walking to the side of the road, the teenager spotted a small grove some 30 feet off which might provide some shelter for the night. Fayt started in the direction of the copse, smiling to himself when he felt a raindrop fall onto his head, marveling at the way the weather seemed to reflect his mood. Slinging his backpack to the ground, the blue haired boy dug through it until he found his communicator.

"Promises…" the teenager whispered, staring at the small electronic device as he turned it over in his hands, "…sorry, Cliff, but you can't help me this time." Fayt finished, throwing the fragile piece of equipment to the ground and stepping on it heavily, hearing with some satisfaction as the metal crushed under his thick boot.

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Seishiki walked languidly down the winding path that led to the Holy City of Aquios. Shoving his hands deeply into his pockets, the man blew a strand of jet black hair out of his face, frowning when he noticed how strange it was to be in a different body. The body he previously inhabited had already been old, decaying, and dying, but this one he had chosen carefully. It would prove a dire consequence indeed if he had chosen another elderly corpse, so he had chosen…_this._ Glancing down, Seishiki saw a long pair of legs taking large strides as he walked down the path. The body itself was slight of build, but very agile, which was what Seishiki had been looking for. The man's face, which was now his own, was narrow, almost to the point of being gaunt, and his eyes were bright blue, contrasting brilliantly with his black hair. This man had also been very pale, and Seishiki looked down with disdain at his arm, which was reddening slightly due to the bright sun overhead.

Lifting his head back up, the tall man felt something strange quivering on the edges of his conscious. Seishiki frowned, not recognizing this new sensation. The spirit had many powers that those who were bound in flesh did not, from telepathy to seeing the future. Whenever he used these powers, he would feel a twinge, a slight tug on his mind, but he could always distinguish what the sensation meant. Creasing his eyebrows, Seishiki stopped walking and stood still as he tried to figure out what he was feeling.

_"Get…out…"_ Seishiki's eyes widened in surprise when he heard a small echo sound inside of his head.

_"Who…?"_ the man thought, clenching his teeth together as pain laced throughout his body.

_"I said…get out…_" the same rasping voice said again, this time sounding somehow weaker.

_"Get out? Oh, so you must be the lovely little spirit that inhabited this chunk of flesh before I happened upon it. I'm sorry, but I'm going to be needing your body for a while. I hope you don't mind too much…"_ Seishiki thought back, searching his mind for the small glowing light that was the other's soul. Finding it, the man smiled triumphantly before he reached out and grabbed it, watching the small light flicker and fade. Ah, yes, Seishiki had forgotten about that. Every time you inhabit a new body, you must first subdue the spirit that the body was born with. The last body he had taken over had been old, so the spirit hadn't had any real will to live anymore, making it very simple to suppress it. In fact, Seishiki had cowed the old man's spirit without even noticing, it had been so easy. This one, however, might prove to be troublesome. The man's spirit was still young, some would say the 'prime of his life', being only in his mid-twenties. Satisfied that his 'second' conscious hadn't tried speaking with him again, Seishiki continued his leisurely stroll down the dirt path, stepping over the dark, murky puddles that had appeared after last night's rain.

Watching the scenery to his right pass him by, the man noticed the tall trees…the luscious grass…and the shrubs wearing boots. Pausing when he saw the strange and complicated pair of boots sticking out from under a small cluster of undergrowth, Seishiki tried to stifle his laughter. Shaking his head as he walked off of the path and towards the boots, the tall man wondered who might be the owner of such a pair of boots. Probably some poor drunk who's passed out in the bushes after a night of drinking…

Seishiki crouched down and peered underneath the bush, raising an eyebrow when he saw the thin, blue haired teenager curled up underneath the prodding branches. Seishiki grinned. It was just too perfect.

Standing back up, the dark haired man nudged Fayt with the toe of his shoe, hearing the young boy moan.

"Hey, kid, wake up." He said curtly, watching as the young man tried to sit up then fall back down when he felt the branches scratching his face. Seishiki chuckled in an amused manner as he continued to observe Fayt untangle himself from the twigs, then smiled warmly when the boy's green eyes turned to him.

"Who're you?" Fayt asked, his voice slightly raspy from a parched throat.

"My name is Seishiki, young man, and who might you be?" Seishiki replied, stumbling over the strange way that the inhabitants of this planet spoke. When he had been the village leader, nobody really paid attention to one's dialect, but here the man decided not to take any chances. Seishiki hadn't bothered to change his name. It didn't really matter, since the old spirit wasn't even sure if Seishiki had been his real name that had been given to him by his parents. It had been so long ago when he had been alive.

"Young man?" the blue haired boy asked, eyeing the taller man strangely. "You say that like you are far older than me, which I can see that you are not."

"Damn…" Seishiki muttered under his breath, realizing his mistake. He had forgotten that he had changed into this younger body. "Oh? Well, by the looks of you, you seem to be no older than a child. Forgive me if I am mistaken." The man corrected, seeing the frown of disapproval on the younger man's face.

"Yeah, well…my name's Fayt. What do you want?" the teenager asked, dusting the front of his vest off, which was covered in dirt.

"Nothing in particular. I was just passing by when I spotted you sleeping underneath that bush. It struck me as somewhat strange and so I decided to investigate. I'm terribly sorry if I have disturbed your sleep. I must ask though…why were you sleeping on the road? Bandits pass by here regularly, as do the monsters who prowl these parts. Weren't you at all concerned for your own welfare?" the dark haired man said smoothly, watching as Fayt glanced to the ground.

"I must have been tired yesterday. I had been traveling and I guess I just passed out. I'm headed towards Peterny, so I suppose I still have a ways to go…?" the blue haired boy asked, not quite sure where he was. It had been so dark the night before that he hadn't really paid attention to where he was headed.

"Peterny, eh? Why, I myself am headed there as well. What a stroke of luck! It's only a few hours from here. Let's travel together. It's easier to fend off the bandits and such if there are two of us. I must confess, however, I am not too skilled when it comes to fighting. I trust that you are adept when it comes to that sword you have strapped to your back?" Seishiki asked, raising his eyebrows. If the blue haired boy refused now, he would have to change his entire plan.

"Okay…but it seems to me like I'm getting the short end of the bargain. If you aren't good at fighting, then apparently I will become a bodyguard." The quick-witted teenager said, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, of course you will be paid if your skills are put to use throughout our traveling." The dark haired man said, seeing the boys eyes light up.

"Very well…Seishiki, was it?" Fayt said, nodding his head. "Let's get going then. I want to be in Peterny by sundown, if that's at all possible." The taller man smiled and nodded his head, looking down into the younger man's face. It seemed he wouldn't have to change his arrangements after all…

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Albel paced the small room to which he had been assigned in the palace at Aquios. He had left the tavern shortly after Fayt had, not being able to escape his thoughts of the young boy, and now was being driven to the point of insanity with boredom.

_"This is madness…"_ the swordsman thought angrily to himself as he wrenched the door open and stormed into the hallway. Many people had been astounded when the Queen announced that Albel the Wicked was allowed to stay in the castle, some even going so far as to argue with her royal majesty. Most, however, remained quiet and quickly looked away whenever the swordsman's cruel glance was turned their way. Albel huffed when a small group of villagers who were visiting the castle shuffled quickly out of his way, whispering hurriedly amongst themselves.

_"Damn maggots…"_ the tall man thought, placing a wrist on the hilt of the Crimson Scourge. The sword hummed when it felt the cool touch of its wielders hand upon its hilt, wanting the bloodshed to begin. The sword usually reacted to Albel's thoughts, and at times it seemed that the sword would jump into his hand as if of its own accord. Albel looked down at the Crimson Scourge and smirked, staring at the intricate patterns of golden script flowing down the hilt, which would eventually splash onto the blade itself.

"Albel, where are you going?" a familiar voice asked, making the swordsman jerk his head up and glare steadily at the young warrior in front of him. Nel stood with her hands on her hips and her head cocked to one side, a questioning look on her face.

"It seems that has been the favorite question to ask, as of late…" Albel sighed, shifting the sack that was slung over his shoulder. "Don't ask me again, maggot, because even I'm not sure where I will go yet. All I care about is getting away from this damned town." The swordsman moved quickly past the red haired woman, who was opening her mouth to reply, but stopped when Albel glared at her quickly over his shoulder before leaving the castle.

_"Well…now what?" _Albel thought to himself as he passed through the town. _"I suppose I could return to Airyglyph, even though the arrogant King annoys me still. Woltar is there, too… Ah, well, I suppose I'll just head towards Peterny before deciding where to travel."_

Stepping out from underneath the gateway's large shadow, the swordsman glared into the bright sun. He turned towards the path that led to Peterny and took a step forward, his blood red eyes unintentionally straying off of the pathway and looking for something that seemed to be missing.

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Seishiki cradled his head in his hands, shutting his bright blue eyes tightly. His breath came in short, uneven gasps as he fell to the ground, his back up against a tree.

_"Damn…"_ Seishiki thought when he felt the pain lace through is body once again as the other's soul grew all the brighter. The other inhabitant of this body had been growing in power, making it harder and harder for the spirit to concentrate on the task at hand. Clenching his jaw tightly, the dark haired man reached out and grabbed hold of the soul once more as he tried again to suppress it. The soul grew very bright, making Seishiki squint his eyes, before it faded all together and disappeared into the darkness of his mind. Opening his eyes, the tall man found to his satisfaction that the pain that had plagued him night and day was now gone. Seishiki stood up and extended his hands above his head, stretching his back and shoulder muscles. Maybe now he could finally get some peace and quiet.

Seishiki wandered back to the path and glanced around for Fayt, who had resentfully agreed to a short rest. Seeing the younger boy jump up from his seat beneath a large willow tree, the tall man smiled thankfully as Fayt approached.

"Thanks for allowing me that short rest. I must be getting out of shape, in my old age…" Seishiki joked, hearing the blue haired boy snort in reply.

"Yeah, right…" he said, nudging the older man in the arm playfully. The dark haired man stared in Fayt's direction as they started walking again, when a thought struck him.

"What are you running away from, Fayt?" he asked airily, as if the question had no underlying meaning to it.

"What makes you think I'm running away from something?" the teenager replied, glancing to the taller man and raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing, really. It's just that most people who are traveling to Peterny are either running away from something or are going to the large market there to sell their wares. Since you don't have anything on your person other than that small bag on your back and your weapon, I wouldn't think it was the latter." Seishiki said as he shoved his hands deeply into his pockets and looked farther down the road.

"Well, what about you? What are you running away from?" Fayt said, avoiding the older man's question. Seishiki smiled sadly and ran a hand through his dark locks before answering.

"I was…run out of my village." The tall man said, shrugging dismissively.

"Why?" the blue haired boy asked innocently, honestly curious as to what the older man did to deserve such a thing.

"It's a long story." Seishiki sighed, glancing over to Fayt to see the young man still staring at him with wide eyes. "A few weeks ago, people in my village had been turning up dead. All of the corpses were the same: their throats slit and their eyes and mouths wide open, as if they had died screaming. The bloodied knives were always next to the bodies, making it seem as if they had killed themselves. The villagers all started speaking about sorcery, or better known as witchcraft. They speculated that one of their own had gotten involved in this hated crime and had been infecting the minds of others, forcing them to kill themselves. When the word 'witchcraft' spread throughout the small village, all fingers pointed towards me. Know that it wasn't I who killed these people. The only reason those in my village thought it was me was the fact that my mother had birthed me without a husband. She had come to the village years ago pregnant and without a clue as to who the father was. The villagers had accepted her, but they always looked at me with distrust and hatred. They knew I was different and that my father had apparently been from a far away land. See how pale my skin is? See the color of my hair and eyes? The rest of the villagers had dark skin, dark eyes, but lighter colored hair. I was the complete opposite of what they looked like. My mother had dark skin and dark eyes, but also had darker colored hair. They still accepted her, though, since she looked enough like them to pass off as one of their own. So when the third body appeared late one night, they naturally forced me to leave." The dark haired man finished his tale and sighed, dropping his head slightly.

"I'm sorry…" the startled teenager said, not expecting his companion's tale to be so dismal.

Seishiki smiled. "Think nothing more of it. I just don't understand why people can hate so easily and find it hard to trust. They acted as if they were scared of me throughout my whole lifetime. Even my mother began to become nervous whenever I approached her. It seemed as if the rumors about me had finally infected her, as well. I can't really blame them, though. I didn't belong there. At times I hated myself for being different. When I was a child I would smear mud on my face in an attempt to look more like them, to stop my peers from running away from me every time I approached. They despised me more than anything. I hope that they are happier now that I am gone." The tall man said sadly, watching for the teenager's reaction. Seishiki silently prayed that his lie would be enough to gain the younger man's trust.

Fayt's heart beat faster as he listened to the older man talk, realizing how much alike they were. They were both hated for being something that they held no sway over. They both hated themselves for being what they couldn't change. The teenager's eyes widened before he spoke, staring into the older man's bright blue eyes.

"My story is very similar to yours…." Was all he could say, then snapped his gaze back to the road ahead of him. He couldn't bring himself to tell Seishiki about being the embodiment of destruction just yet, though he greatly wanted to. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it." He mumbled, seeing the disappointed look in the dark haired man's eyes. Fayt reminded himself of what Albel had told him, his chest constricting when he thought of the cruel swordsman. That's right, if he were to tell Seishiki about being the embodiment of destruction, his newfound companion would probably look at him with the same contempt that Albel had. Fayt didn't know if he could bear seeing that again.

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Yay for reviewing!


	10. Thoughts of a Dying Atheist

Double digits, double digits! Okay…I'm freaking out. You have all been duped and have read the wrong version of this chapter. I have fixed it for you, my adoring fans! Muah! But, not exactly fixed, but just added stuff to it. And, I just hope that you all read this version, and not the other, shorter one. -spazzes out-

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"_So…you hate me then?" Albel asked, keeping his back to the younger man._

_"What…?" Fayt replied, trying to figure out what the swordsman wanted of him._

_"Just answer the question, fool." Albel snapped, digging his long fingernails into his arm that was crossed over his chest. Fayt lowered his head and closed his eyes, thinking deeply on the question that was put before him. Raising his head back up, Fayt knew he couldn't bring himself to hate Albel. The knowledge that someone hated you was at times too much to bear. Fayt knew only too well the pain that hatred brought with it. There was, however, another reason why he couldn't hate Albel, one that he didn't quite understand and wouldn't for another few months._

_"Not really." The teenager stated, his voice firm and without falter. Albel turned around, his heavily lashed eyes widening doubtfully._

_"Why not? I've hurt lots of your friends. Shouldn't you hate me by now?" the swordsman asked confusedly as he stared down into the younger man's face._

_"Yeah, but that wasn't your intention, right? It was war, after all…" Fayt trailed, smiling slightly up at the Captain of the Black Brigade._

Albel gasped and sat up quickly, a sheen of sweat covering his body. The swordsman sighed and tried to slow his breathing as he ran a hand roughly through his hair. Why had he dreamt of that night? Glancing around, Albel saw the small tavern room with its sparse furnishings. Only a small table and the old, worn out bed decorated the aged room.

Bringing his knees up to his chest, Albel rested his head on his arms that were crossed over his knees. He had forgotten that this was the same inn that Fayt and his companions had stayed at during their journeys to save the galaxy by destroying the Creator, though they hardly knew what they were getting into at the time. They had only briefly stayed in Peterny, perhaps for one night, but it had been long enough for Albel to ask Fayt his question.

That had been the night when Fayt told Albel that he trusted the older man. This had confused the swordsman at first, since the last person who had trusted him had been Glou Nox, his father, who had died while protecting his son. Eventually, though, Albel began to understand Fayt's words and had started to place some of his trust in the younger man, if only a little. The swordsman was still wary and didn't want to be hurt again.

Growling disgustedly at himself for bringing up memories that would be better off dead, Albel ripped the thin blankets off of him and stood up, glancing around for the tight purple shirt that he had discarded lazily on the ground the night before. Upon finding it, Albel pulled it over his head and picked the Crimson Scourge up, strapping it tightly to his waist.

He had gotten to Peterny late last night, having to argue with the gates guards before they let him into the sleeping town. It seemed that his name was known throughout the kingdom of Aquaria, making it hard for the swordsman to travel without being treated with distrust. Only after insults and curses were thrown from the guards to Albel and vice versa did they finally decide to let him in, realizing that it would probably prove to be safer to let the angry swordsman have what he wanted than to deny him entrance and risk the whole town's security. There was no knowing what the impulsive man would do, and they would rather have him content than infuriated. After he had gotten into the town, Albel had gone through the streets searching for an inn or a tavern to sleep at, only realizing this morning that he had subconsciously retraced his steps from that night so long ago.

Rubbing the pins and needles out of his tightly wrapped arm, Albel began to wonder what exactly he had hoped to gain by coming to Peterny. He hadn't actually planned his whole journey through, and now found that he didn't know what to do. It seemed that he had come to Peterny almost looking for Fayt, as if he had grown reliant on the younger man…

"_Bah."_ Albel thought, furrowing his eyebrows and sneering. Albel the Wicked needed no one and definitely didn't depend on Fayt for anything.

Strapping the heavy metal claws onto his left arm after the feeling returned to it, the swordsman decided to leave and make his way for Airyglyph. At least he would actually have a place to call 'home' there, visualizing the comfortable room he had back at the castle. After all, he had lived at the Airyglyph castle for most of his life and they would be fools not to welcome him back. Picking up his bag on the way out of his room, Albel slammed the door shut loudly, hearing a few muttered curses come from the room next to his.

Once he had checked out of the tavern and had paid the bill, the swordsman walked smoothly down the street, quietly slipping in and out of the crowds of people. He had never been one to push people out of his way, as the dumb blonde ox had, but preferred to just go with the crowd as he glanced at the random and sometimes exotic people that inhabited this strange town.

Peterny was a town known for having a large market, and people from all around came to trade their goods or sell them. One could find almost anything in the large market square located in the center of the city. What Albel didn't expect to find, however, was a certain blue haired teenager. Ducking out of the crowd, the swordsman put his back up against the nearby stone chapel and leaned against it casually, lowering his head and peering out through his thick bangs at the bright eyed boy.

Fayt seemed to be having a good time bartering with a short man about the price of a new sword, pointing out non-existent faults with the polished blade. The short dealer seemed adamant, however, and wouldn't part with the sword for less than a certain price, or so Albel pertained from the short, jerking gestures that the trader was making with his hands. Suddenly, a tall man seemingly appeared at Fayt's side, and Albel stiffened when he saw the man reach out for the teenager. Finding the hilt of the Crimson Scourge, the swordsman gripped it tightly as he waited for the stranger to make his move.

He relaxed slightly when he saw Fayt grin at the tall, black haired man and reassumed his position up against the chapel's wall, wondering who the man was. Fayt seemed happy with him as he tried to explain the inflexible dealer's temperament to the tall man, the dealer shouting at the teenager randomly when Fayt left some of the story out. The dark haired man chuckled and slung an arm around the blue haired boy's shoulders nonchalantly, looking back to the short trader who was saying something that Albel couldn't hear. The swordsman watched, his red eyes wide, as the dealer abruptly stopped talking and handed the sword slowly to Fayt, a dazed look coming over his face.

The teenager put his hands up, bewildered at the dealers willingness to hand over his prized weapon. The taller man smiled down at Fayt and gestured for him to take it, which the blue haired boy did, smiling gratefully to the short trader. Fayt and the dark man then turned their backs on Albel, the taller man's arm still wrapped around the smaller boy's shoulders. Albel pushed himself off of the wall and walked stiffly towards the gate, wanting nothing more than to leave and to be on the road once again. When he was traveling, the swordsman found that everything seemed to make more sense. Traveling made life simple, only having to focus on where he was going and how to battle the next monster or bandit that would show itself.

Albel gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as he approached the tall gates, wondering furiously who the man with Fayt had been. Did Fayt like this new companion more than he had liked Albel? Was Fayt happy now that Albel was out of his life? It certainly seemed like the teenager was happy, more contented than the swordsman had seen him in some time. Slowing to a more agreeable stride, Albel put a hand to his forehead. Was Albel the Wicked feeling…jealousy?

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Fayt was miserable. He felt terrible after leaving Albel like that, and was now on his way to tell Seishiki that he wanted to go and find him to apologize. Fayt had stayed with the older man after they had reached Peterny, and was now quickly approaching his third week with the dark haired man. It seemed everyone knew Seishiki in Peterny, since they never made him pay for anything. The innkeepers always waved him in and told him that he needn't pay, so Fayt came to the conclusion that Seishiki was well liked here.

The teenager stood outside of the tavern room that they had been staying in. The innkeepers never let them have more than one room, for some strange reason, but it was fine since the rooms always had two beds. Fayt opened the door quietly and peered inside, finding Seishiki stretched out on his bed and reading some sort of book. The man always seemed to be reading, acting more like a man twice his age than a man in his mid twenties. Fayt walked over to the side of the dark haired man's bed and looked down at him, smiling when Seishiki lifted his head.

"Yes? What do you need, Fayt?" he asked, his words lazily rolling off of his tongue.

"Um…say, listen Seishiki. I can't stay with you for much longer. I feel really bad about what I said to Albel and I'm going to go find him to apologize. I just wanted to thank you for all you've done for me, is all," the blue haired boy said, his voice quivering slightly.

"You're leaving? Why so sudden? And wasn't this Albel person you've told me about so much the one who was mean to you? I'd just leave him to rot, if I were you," Seishiki replied, sitting up in his bed and resting his chin in a hand.

"Yeah, but you aren't me. I feel awful for the way I treated him, and whether he accepts my apology or not, I still want to try," Fayt said, becoming somewhat vexed when he heard Seishiki telling him that he should leave Albel to rot. Sure Albel could be wicked at times, but that didn't make it okay to act the same way towards him.

"Fayt, you can't leave, you just can't," Seishiki said, his voice quickly becoming panicked.

"Why not?" Fayt questioned, cocking his head to the side. The older man was usually calm and tranquil, but now he was acting panic-stricken. Seishiki became nervous after he heard Fayt's question and began to fidget with the bed sheets as he stared at the teenager's strange boots.

"You can't leave…because…" the dark haired man trailed off, then whispered something that Fayt couldn't hear.

"What was that?" the blue haired boy questioned, leaning his head closer to the other man's in order to hear more clearly.

"…I love you." Seishiki said, blushing deeply. He heard Fayt gasp, then looked up and grabbed the teenager's wrist, pulling himself up towards Fayt. "I love you," he whispered into Fayt's ear, feeling the younger man's back muscles tighten beneath his hands.

"I can't let you leave me, because if you do…I don't know what I'd do," Seishiki continued, pulling back to look into the boy's bright green eyes. Seishiki leaned in once more, this time pressing his lips to the younger man's. The dark haired man parted the teenager's lips with his tongue and slithered it into the younger man's mouth, feeling Fayt at first try to pull away from the kiss, but then he gave into it.

Fayt knew Seishiki was kissing him. He also knew that now the older man was roughly pulling his vest off as he used his weight to lower them both into the bed that Fayt had been sleeping in for the past few nights. Fayt knew that Seishiki intended to have sex with him.

A sense of dread filled the teenager. He would never see Albel again. He was damned to stay away from the one person he had grown to love. He would stay with Seishiki forever. Did he really think that? Did he really believe that? Fayt's eyes opened quickly, seeing the dark haired man attempting to take Fayt's complex boots off.

"Stop, Seishiki!" Fayt yelled, trying to throw the heavier man off of him. Seishiki looked up from the boots and their eyes locked. The younger man saw in Seishiki's ice blue eyes a sense of confusion and hurt. The older man quickly got off of the bed and stood in the middle of the room, his arms hanging at his sides helplessly.

Fayt quickly stood up and ran out of the room, not bothering to grab his shirt. He ran out into the streets of Peterny and leaned up against a building that was in the market place. Fayt gasped for breath and tilted his head up against the stone building, closing his eyes and thinking how it was getting colder now that the sun had set. He thought about Seishiki, and how the man had told him that he loved Fayt. Did he really love Fayt? The teenager didn't know, but the more important question was did he love Seishiki? He knew the answer to that one, and it was a firm no. The thing that scared Fayt the most was that he knew that he could grow to love Seishiki. Right now the answer was no, but in a week…who knows?

_"I wish I were with Albel. I wish I could tell him not to be envious of Seishiki because I love him and only him."_ Fayt thought, then opened his eyes when he realized that he really didn't know on an intellectual level that Albel was jealous of Seishiki, but he knew it on more of an…emotional level. Fayt sighed and tried to lean farther back into the wall, feeling for the first time the presence of Albel.

Had he and Albel traveled here together, and was he just remembering that time? Fayt asked himself, but then shook his head. Certainly not. They hadn't traveled to Peterny, but only the few odd villages that were scattered about. Then what…? Fayt shook his head again. Nothing made sense anymore. Pushing himself off of the wall, Fayt turned around and walked through the chapel's doors, deciding to see if prayer would induce some sort of miracle.

Once he walked down the long, stone hallway that led to the main room of the church, Fayt kneeled down in one of the pews and stared at the crucified Christ that was hanging over the alter. The teenager didn't know exactly how to pray, since his family had never been a religious one, so he decided that praying would just be like thinking, except thinking to God. He began to wonder whether or not Albel was alright, whether or not he should go back and find Seishiki. His thoughts were interrupted when an elderly priest came to sit on the pew that Fayt was kneeling in, moving the large, wooden rosary that was hanging from his white robe out of the way.

"You seem troubled, son." He said very kindly, his face showing nothing but compassion.

"Yes…I am, Father." Fayt replied, standing up to sit next to the old man.

"Is there anything I can do to help ease your pain?" The priest asked, laying his hands in his lap. Fayt smiled gratefully.

"I don't think so." He said, lowering his head and letting his blue hair fall into his eyes. "It's just…I love someone, but we got into a fight and I left in my anger. I met somebody else that I could possibly fall in love with, but I'm not so sure that I can completely forget about the other person. What do you think I should do? Should I leave my one friend in search of the other that I love, or should I attempt to love the person I am with now?" Fayt said, deciding that the reason he came to the chapel was to find wisdom and guidance. The old priest rubbed his chin and looked to the alter, his gray eyes falling upon the crucifix.

"Love is a strong emotion, son. You shouldn't take it for granted. I believe that you should find the person you love, instead of trying to fool yourself into loving another." The old man said simply, making it sound like the easiest decision in the world. Fayt sighed and looked up, gazing at the alter that was gilded in gold. Fayt waited for a moment before replying.

"Thank you, Father. I'll keep your counseling in mind." The teenager said, looking over to the kind priest. Cold sweat broke out on Fayt's brow when he saw the priest drenched in blood, his throat apparently slit. Fayt paled when he felt arms wrap around his chest, and a cool voice said in a whisper,

"You won't be leaving me, my love." Seishiki said, sending cold chills down Fayt's spine. Fayt felt a blade pressed to his throat and his bright green eyes widened. "Now, let's go stand in front of that beautiful alter so that I may have a little fun before we leave." The dark haired man whispered, nudging the teenager in the back with his knife.

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_"No…no, leave me! Stop…"_ Seishiki thought, holding his head in his hands as he stumbled down the main street of Peterny. Fayt had left him. He couldn't let Fayt go. The teenager alone had the power to kill the King of the Dead. The original soul glowed brightly, infuriated that Seishiki was using his body for immoral purposes. The pain drove Seishiki to insanity. It was too much to bear. Every fiber in his body screamed at him every step he took. Flames whipped through his body, making his blood boil. Poison made his heart and chest constrict. The other soul was doing everything it could to get Seishiki out of it's body.

Seishiki staggered into the chapel that he had seen Fayt go into earlier in the evening, glancing about madly for the young boy. He couldn't stand the pain. Using every power he knew he possessed, Seishiki lashed out at the other soul, crushing it so that it wouldn't be able to cause him pain anymore. The soul attempted once more to get rid of Seishiki, but the other spirit was too powerful. The soul laced itself into Seishiki's brain, making one final effort to gain control of his body once more. Seishiki fought back, however, and destroyed the soul, but not before the soul had the chance to destroy a part of his mind. The tall man stood to his full height, feeling the pain subside. He bent back over when he felt his mind crumble, the other spirit driving him to complete insanity.

_"Now, to kill Fayt…"_ Seishiki thought, smirking villainously to himself as he walked slowly down the hallway that led to the church…and to Fayt.

Once he got into the church, Seishiki saw Fayt sitting on a pew talking with an aged priest.

_"How sweet. Seeking council from a man of God." _The crazed man thought, slipping silently into the pew behind the young boy and the priest.

"Love is a strong emotion, son. You shouldn't take it for granted. I believe that you should find the person you love, instead of trying to fool yourself into loving another." Seishiki heard the older man say, glaring at him when he mentioned that Fayt should leave Seishiki. Oh, this would not do. The tall man leant forward silently, producing from his sleeve a small knife. In one swift motion, Seishiki clapped his hand over the old priest's mouth and slit his throat, leaning back slowly so that the priest wouldn't fall over. Then the dark haired man heard Fayt thank the old priest, telling the already dead man that he would keep his counseling in mind. Seishiki watched as the younger man looked to his right, and once he saw the dead priest, the tall, dark haired man slipped his arm around Fayt's chest, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

"You won't be leaving me, my love." Seishiki said smoothly, prodding the younger man with the tip of his knife. "Now, let's go stand in front of that beautiful alter so that I may have a little fun before we leave." He finished, standing to guide Fayt to the front of the church. The boy put up little to no resistance, which surprised the crazed man somewhat, but he quickly put it out of his mind. Seishiki forced the younger man to kneel in front of him as he looked down at the glum boy, smiling cheerfully to himself.

"Why so sad, my love?" Seishiki asked, cupping the boy's face with his hand. Fayt grimaced under the crazed man's cold touch, but otherwise said nothing. Seishiki quickly became angry with the blue haired boy for not answering him, deciding it was very rude of the young boy. Seishiki slapped the boy's face sharply, seeing his handprint on Fayt's face as the younger man fell to the ground. "Why so quiet? Why aren't you fighting back, my love? Answer me this time, please." Seishiki said pleasantly, kneeling down next to the small boy. Fayt was panting, his eyes glaring up at Seishiki through hair matted with sweat.

"I deserve this." The teenager said, confusing the older man greatly. Fayt deserved to be punished? Well, yes he did, for trying to leave Seishiki, but something told the crazed man that it was something else.

"What do you mean? Why do you deserve to be hit?" Seishiki asked, cocking his head to the side. Fayt only glared at him in reply, so the tall man stood up and kicked the younger man in the stomach, hearing the breath leave Fayt. "Why don't you answer me, my love?" he said, continuing to kick Fayt, "Do you not love me?" the crazed man asked, stepping heavily on Fayt's leg, hearing the bones crack underneath his boot.

_"It seems my love needs to be taught a lesson."_ Seishiki thought, pulling his leg back to deliver another blow.

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"_I'm a fool."_ Albel thought angrily to himself as he walked down the pathway and towards the now sleeping town of Peterny. Albel planted his feet firmly on the ground in front of the thick wooden gates that led to the town and looked up, searching the wall for the guards that were supposedly stationed there. Finding none, the angry swordsman drew the Crimson Scourge slowly out of its scabbard, grinning maliciously as he heard the terrifying sound the sword made as it was unsheathed.

"I know you're there, so let's save me the trouble of climbing this wall to slit your scrawny throats and just open the door." Albel growled, his voice carrying in the silent night all the way up to the guards, who had ducked to hide from the vehement swordsman. The guards glanced at each other before nodding decisively, deciding once again to let the wicked man pass.

Albel smirked to himself when he saw the gates swinging open lazily. He doubted that he could climb the wooden gate, as the wood had been smoothed down and the many trees used to build the wall were actually placed so that they stood upright, which was very unusual. Albel didn't know how the hell they had managed it, nor did he really care. All that mattered was that the gate was open and he was walking into Peterny and hopefully towards Fayt.

The swordsman had gotten a strange feeling that Fayt was in danger, and Albel never doubted his instincts. As a warrior, he had learned to trust them and to even act upon them, almost always being correct in his assumptions. Albel passed by the many closed market stands, glancing at the random stray dog silently rummaging their way through the stands in hopes of finding something to eat. They would only stop their dreary search for a moment to gaze up and watch Albel pass them by.

The swordsman made his way to the nearest inn, but something made him turn back. Albel's pace quickened when he found himself once again in the market place, heading towards the old chapel. This was where he had glimpsed Fayt in Peterny those many nights ago. Albel silently eased the door open and slipped inside, shutting the thick door behind him once again.

Albel tensed when he heard muffled shouting and made his way down the hallway and to the room that held the alter and pews, where mass was given every Sunday morning. Albel walked into the room and quickly unsheathed the Crimson Scourge when he beheld the horrors that awaited him. Fayt was laying before the alter, bloodied and bruised, as the man Albel had seen with the teenager kicked him like a dog on the ground.

Albel looked to his left to see an old priest slumped over in a pew, blood spilling down the front of his white robe. He was quite obviously dead. The swordsman looked back to the dark haired man, who still hadn't noticed his presence, and took a step forward, purposely making his footfall heavy so it would resonate throughout the church.

"That's enough." Albel growled, his muscles tensing when the taller man turned to regard him.

"Who have we here?" he asked smoothly, an eyebrow rising mischievously. Seishiki looked back down to Fayt and pulled his leg back, as if to kick him, but stopped when a cold sword was pressed to his throat. "Ah." He breathed, staring at Albel out of the corners of his eyes, who was now only inches from him. "It appears that this is Albel the Wicked, am I correct?"

Seishiki chuckled and attempted to ease away from the blade, but this time it was pushed closer to his neck, drawing a thin line of red blood. "You _are_ he, though, Albel. You are the man who Fayt had praised so foolishly. You _are_ the man who roped Fayt into your little adventure of defeating the King of the Dead. Yes, I know about that," Seishiki smirked when he saw Albel's eyes widen, "so don't act so surprised.

"I know much about you, Albel the Wicked. I had thought that sending the spirits of your dead parents to warn you not to involve yourself with the King of the Dead would have been enough to turn you away from it, but I seem to have guessed wrongly." Albel's eyebrows creased and he pulled away from the other man, very soon becoming wary of what he was saying.

"What are you?" the swordsman whispered, his hand tightening upon the hilt of the Crimson Scourge. Seishiki snorted in reply and said,

"Nothing of this world, if that's what you mean. I am from the Land of the Dead and am just a wandering spirit looking for love and companionship."

"You're mad," Albel sneered, not entirely believing the dark haired man.

"No," Seishiki snapped, his blue eyes gleaming fiercely. "No, that I am not." Albel raised an eyebrow and continued to stare at the older man.

"Are we going to talk all day? Perhaps we should get to the matter of why you are beating Fayt and how quickly you are going to hand him over before I cut your throat," Albel growled. Seishiki's lips contorted into an amused smile as he bent over the teenager's prone form, glancing up through thick bangs to meet Albel's crimson stare.

"Possessive, are we?" Seishiki said pleasantly, running a finger down the side of the boy's face.

"Be silent, maggot. If you touch him again, you'll live to regret it." Albel growled, taking a few steps towards the other man. Seishiki chuckled and stood up, turning to face the swordsman.

"I won't let you take him, Albel. He's too powerful for me to let you take him with you to fight the King. I'm afraid that, should Fayt join the battle, the King may die. I can't let that happen, Albel. There's too much at stake for me to just hand him over to you," Seishiki said, his tone turning serious.

Albel snarled and opened his mouth to reply, but was cut short when the taller man seemingly disappeared and reappeared behind him, something sharp digging into the swordsman's neck. Albel pulled away from Seishiki and turned to see what sort of weapon the taller man was using, but found to his astonishment that Seishiki wasn't using a weapon at all. He stood empty handed and smiling at Albel as the swordsman tried to figure out how he had been cut. Albel reached his hand up to his neck, thinking that perhaps he had only imagined himself being cut, but when he pulled his hand away fresh blood stained his palm.

Albel glared at Seishiki before running towards the taller man, dodging to the side and slicing his sword at Seishiki's neck at the last moment. Steel sounded on steel when the black haired man lifted his arm to block the blow, a short knife holding the Crimson Scourge at bay. Albel snarled and grabbed the man's neck with his left arm, the sharpened claws digging into the other man's throat. Red blood spilled out of the wounds on Seishiki's neck, running onto the silver claws and down Albel's arm. Seishiki gagged and his breath became ragged as he attempted to slash at Albel with the knife that was still in his right hand, but his arm dropped back down to his side after a few weak tries. Albel snorted and let go of the man, watching as he fell to the ground. The fight was over before it already began.

"Pity that you didn't prove to be more of a challenge," the arrogant swordsman hissed, still staring at the man as he writhed and gagged on his own blood. Albel turned around and walked down the aisle to Fayt, who was still on the ground. Fayt sat up slowly when he saw the swordsman approaching him, and smiled lopsidedly. Albel walked around to Fayt's other side and knelt down, still keeping his eyes on the writhing figure in the distance.

"What the hell were you thinking, traveling with a maggot like that?" Albel asked roughly, glaring down into the teenager's face. Fayt lowered his head, not wanting Albel to be angry with him.

"…sorry," he whispered, attempting to stand up but found that his left leg wasn't responding to him. Fayt looked down to it and saw that it was broken, it was swelling quickly and dark purple bruises were appearing rapidly. Albel grimaced slightly when he saw what the younger man was looking at and sat down cross legged on the floor.

"Are any more of your bones broken?" The swordsman asked, examining the bruises that covered Fayt's arms and legs.

"…I think a few of my ribs are, but other than that I can't say…" the teenager trailed, moving his arms and wrists to see if they were working. Albel nodded and started to stand, but stopped when he heard Fayt's voice once again. "A…Albel? I want to tell you why I came to Elicoor." Albel raised his eyebrows and sat back down on the floor, waiting patiently for the younger man to continue. "The reason is…I did something terrible to Sophia. Do you remember when we had finally beaten Luther and we had to figure out how to get back to our own world?" Fayt waited until he saw Albel incline his head slightly, motioning that he did, "You figured out that we had to fully believe that our world was real, and that if we didn't we wouldn't be able to get back. Well, I don't think you remember because it took you a while to wake up, but Sophia wasn't coming back. Her body was there, but her mind wasn't. She was practically a corpse, just lying on the grass. I panicked and brought her back by myself, remembering how she acted, looked, and I basically brought her back before she was ready. When she woke up, she wasn't Sophia. I mean, she had the same voice and she looked the same, but she couldn't remember anything. She had a case of amnesia brought on by my own foolishness. I came here because everyone…Cliff, Maria, Mirage…they all kept on telling me that it wasn't my fault and that I wasn't the one to blame. I got sick of them trying to make light of the crime I commited. So, since I figured you didn't remember and if you did you wouldn't care anyway, I came to travel with you." Fayt finished, staring blankly in front of him. He blinked and looked back to Albel, who was staring at him without emotion. "I just felt I owed you an explanation…" Fayt trailed, seeing Albel nod curtly then begin to stand up again. Before he could fully stand, however, Albel noticed that Seishiki was gone. The body was missing and the only thing to mark him ever being there was a dark pool of thick blood on the ancient stones of the chapel floor. The swordsman quickly stood up and once again unsheathed the Crimson Scourge, glancing around frantically for where the crazed man might be. Albel turned in circles, looking into the shadows that were cast by the few glowing candles in the chapel.

"…Albel…" the swordsman heard Fayt say quietly, and he turned around quickly to find Seishiki kneeling over the teenager once again, this time pulling a knife slowly across his throat. Blood seeped out of the thick gash on Fayt's neck as the boy fell back to the floor, Seishiki grinning spitefully up at Albel.

"I…said…" he gasped out, the wounds on his neck opening and closing as he spoke, "I…said that…I wouldn't let you…have him…" Seishiki finished, falling onto the floor next to the dying teenager. Albel shook himself and quickly knelt back down next to Fayt, his eyebrows creasing in worry.

"F…Fayt?" He asked, not being able to keep the panic from his voice. The teenager smiled and put a hand to Albel's cheek, letting it fall back to his side, as he was weak from blood loss.

"It's…alright, Albel." Fayt rasped, coughing as blood filled his throat and lungs. "I…I'm sorry for…saying those things…back in Aquios…" the teenager continued, his eyes filling with tears. "Albel…I…" Fayt's voice caught in his, his body constricting with wracking coughs.

"Quiet, fool…" Albel said, placing his hand over the teenager's mouth. Fayt pulled the swordsman's hand away and held onto it, closing his eyes as his breathing slowed.

"Albel…I…love you…" he said finally, his body relaxing as the last, uneven breath was stolen from his body. Fayt finally felt the cold, dark, oblivion that is known as death wash over him.

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A/N: Eek! Please don't kill me for killing Fayt! Yeah, I had to make this chapter longer because in my other one it didn't quite explain why Seishiki was all…nutso. So…SO! Please? Don't be mad. Rest assured that Santa shall deliver cookies and scones to the children of the world.


	11. Land of the Dead

...-snort- huh? Whazzat? Where am I? What's going on? Oh, yeah. Everybody screeches. CAPPIE HAS WRITTEN MORE, WHAT! I know, I know…I suck…shoot me…I killed Fayt…He's dead…OR IS HE? Tell me if this chapter sucks. I think Albel is ooc somewhat, and it pisses me off. CURSE YOU, ALBEL!

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Fayt felt himself fall. He knew he wasn't actually falling, but the feeling rushed over him in a blur of images and emotions. He saw all of the accomplishments he had made in his short lifetime, all of the people he had saved. Fayt smiled softly to himself when he saw his friends, all of them helping him to save their universe.

"…ouch," Fayt muttered under his breath after he realized that he had stopped falling and had in fact hit something solid. The teenager's eyes fluttered open and Fayt found to his amazement that he was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling of what appeared to be a cave

Sitting up, Fayt looked to his left and found strange paintings on the cave's wall, and he crawled closer in order to see more clearly. Fayt gasped and put a hand to his mouth when he saw what images had been created there, feeling his stomach churn at the mere sight of them. There were people, of all ages, painted by some wicked man's hand in their moments of death. Some were screaming as they were killed for crimes they did not commit. Others were crying as they watched their children and family die with them. Fayt had to close his eyes for a moment, giving him time to realize one similarity: death was evident in every painting. Fayt snapped his eyes back open and searched the wall, looking for something to prove himself wrong. The teenager stopped his frantic search when his eyes rested upon one painting in particular.

There was a village being attacked by strange, dragon-like demons. They were being torn apart. Nobody was trying to save them. Fayt gritted his teeth and curled his fingers into a fist, leaning heavily upon the walls rough surface. The demons were Executioners, monsters that were released into Fayt's galaxy by Luther, the Creator, in order to kill their universe and everybody who inhabited it. Fayt had been unable to save them. They had depended upon him for their survival, and he failed them. True, Fayt had been able to kill Luther in the end, but that still didn't bring back those who died.

Fayt gazed back up to the painting, quickly becoming light headed. It was almost like Fayt himself had killed them… The teenager shook his head, attempting to rid his mind of these thoughts that still plagued him, even after death.

"_Even after death…"_ Fayt suddenly turned his gaze to the other paintings, realizing for the first time that not only was death being depicted in all of the paintings, but that the people in them _were actually dead_. The people who were being attacked by the Executioners all died, and this must be the moment before they were killed. All of the paintings must be the moment before death for each person, captured and then recreated by some devil's twisted mind.

"_Who would do this? Who would do something so terrible…and why?"_ Fayt wondered to himself, his eyes widening. The teenager broke out into a cold sweat when he realized where he must be. This must be the Underworld, the Land of the Dead, the Afterlife. No, this couldn't be. There had to be some cold emptiness, some dark oblivion to all of the travesties that Fayt had committed in his life. He couldn't be aware of what his life had been like, of all the wrongs he had done. That would be too hard to bear….

Fayt stood up and stumbled down the dark, winding tunnel that he had found himself in, praying silently to himself that it would lead him to some familiar place where he would find his friends, and they would all laugh at him when he told them of his strange dream. This had to be a dream…Fayt couldn't be…_dead._ This couldn't be the Afterlife.

Fayt staggered into a large room, following the paintings that dyed the walls. The teenager's mouth fell open when he looked around the room, finding to his amazement that the paintings splashed onto the walls and even the ceiling of the room. Fayt ran across the room and found another tunnel, the paintings continuing to lead the way to some unknown place. Fayt wondered how far they would lead him, but then stopped abruptly when he found them growing sparse. Fayt began to search the paintings, his eyes widening frantically when he didn't find what he was looking for. A bright splash of color grabbed the teenager's attention, and when Fayt glanced over to see what it had been he nearly fainted.

A dazzling color of blue had caught his eye, and when Fayt followed the color down he saw his own face painted vividly on the tunnel's wall. Fayt remembered everything: Seishiki betraying him, Albel fighting for him, Fayt telling Albel about Sophia, and then…death. It had been so simple, had taken just a second for Fayt to die. The teenager sat on the floor and looked back to the painting, noting that the paint looked fresh. A small scratching noise distracted him for a moment, and Fayt looked over to his left to see a new painting being created, this time of a small child. The painter was unseen, the brush as well. It was as if the paint just appeared on the walls, being applied in short brushstrokes that left Fayt marveling. The teenager looked back to his own painting and saw the bright red blood that stained his clothing, the blood that seemingly dripped out of the wide, gaping wound on his neck. It was true. Fayt was dead. This was the Underworld, and Fayt would be aware of all he had done in his life for the rest of eternity.

"Welcome to the Land of the Dead," a voice whispered behind him, and Fayt turned around to see a man with long, white hair standing with his arms crossed. "I, Mr. Leingod, am the King of the Dead," he finished smugly, watching with satisfaction as Fayt simply shrugged and then turned back to stare at the paintings on the wall.

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A small boy was sitting at the entrance to an old stable, shivering slightly whenever a cold breeze blew past him. He wrapped his arms around himself, covering the thin shirt he was wearing in an attempt to ward off the biting chill of the night air.

_"I wish it wasn't so cold tonight,"_ the stable boy thought to himself, leaning against the weathered wood, _"Maybe I can go ask Eva for a warm bowl of soup…"_ he thought wistfully, closing his eyes and trying to imagine himself somewhere warm.

The boy had worked at these stables for all of his life, taking the rich patron's horses to cool them off and give them something to eat. The innkeeper was usually kind to him, but whenever the innkeeper got drunk the small boy knew to stay away. Eva was the other orphan who worked here. She was also very kind and even snuck some food to him, since she was in charge of the desk and the kitchens when the innkeeper was in bed. The old man, as the boy liked to call the innkeeper, had told him stories of when he was found, cold and alone. The old man had taken the boy in and had given him a job, never even giving him a name but mainly calling him "boy". When Eva came to work for the old man, she had given the boy a name, telling him that no proper man would grow up without having a name. She had given him the name Erik, saying that it had been her older brother's name before he passed away.

"Erik…" the stable boy whispered, deciding he liked that name. He promised her that he would grow up to be a fine man, just like her older brother.

Erik snapped his eyes open when he heard a slight shuffling noise, straining in the darkness to see who would come to the inn at such an hour. The young boy saw a dark shadow walk up to the inn's door and attempt to open it, though they were quite obviously having difficulties.

"Damn…" Erik heard the person hiss, and stood up to go and see if he could help.

"Excuse me?" the boy said very politely, walking up next to the dark form, "Can I help you?" Erik walked into the light of the small lamp that was hanging over the tavern's door and looked up, meeting the gaze of a man with blood red eyes. The stable boy shivered and then looked down to see what the man was carrying, since he was quite obviously burdened with something heavy. Erik jumped and almost yelled out when he saw the body of a young man in the arms of the other man, and looked up with frightened eyes to see the other man's reaction.

"Follow me," the man said, leaving no room for argument as he kicked the door open and stalked into the tavern. Erik jumped again when he heard the door being kicked open, then hurried to follow the man inside. Closing the door behind him, the stable boy searched the room for Eva, who was coming to meet them from behind the desk.

"Welcome! How may I…"

"A room." Eva was interrupted very rudely by the man, but all the same smiled and began to walk down the large hallway that led to the more lavish rooms.

"Please follow me," she said warmly, not taking notice of the man's burden as it was very dark in the tavern, with only a few candles to light the common room. The man waited impatiently as Eva opened the door to one of the rooms and turned around to ask him if it would be alright. The man, however, was already walking past her and into the room, laying the younger looking man down onto the bed and turning around to motion Erik inside before shutting the door in Eva's face.

Erik shifted uncomfortably as he watched the man attempt to move the large bed into a corner of the room, the other man still lying on top of it. The stable boy decided to help him and began to push on the foot of the bed, watching with satisfaction as it began to slide into the corner.

Once the bed was moved, the strange man picked the other man up once again and put him on the floor in the middle of the room. Erik noticed in the flickering light of the room that there was blood staining both men.

"You," the man snapped. Erik blinked his eyes rapidly as he came back to awareness, "I need a quill, some ink and parchment." The stable boy nodded and ran out of the room, making his way quickly back into the common room where Eva was.

"The man wants a quill, some ink and parchment." Erik said once he found Eva, and watched as she began to search the drawers for the items.

"What was that man carrying? I couldn't quite see with this light…" Eva questioned, still looking through the drawers.

"I…" Erik swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing, "I think it's a dead person…" the small boy finished, a shiver running down his spine. Eva stopped her frantic searching for a moment, gazing up into the boy's eyes through golden locks.

"Erik…" she said, moving around the desk to stand in front of him, "be very careful. We don't know if it was him who committed the murder, but all the same…just be very, very careful. Don't anger him. I would wake the old man, but he's out cold…" Eva finished, putting her hands on his shoulders and pulling him into a tight hug before letting him go to search the drawers again. "Here," she said once she found the things he needed, placing them on the desk in front of Erik. The boy gathered the items into his arms and took a deep breath, looking up into Eva's face.

"I'm scared…" he said, seeing Eva's face change into a perfect mask of sympathy.

"I know," she said, kneeling down in front of the shivering boy, "but you have to be strong. I gave you Erik's name for a reason, you know. Did you know that Erik saved me from a group of thugs once? It's true," she said, unable to hide her smile when she saw the stable boy's eyes widen, "There were four of them, They wanted to take me somewhere, and when I resisted one of them brought out a knife. I didn't know what to do, but then Erik was there. He saved me…" she finished, her eyes seeing into the past. Eva blinked, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. "Be safe, little brother," she whispered into his ear as she pulled him into another hug, kissing him lightly on the cheek before turning him around to walk back to the room.

Erik began to walk slowly to the room before he turned around once more to smile widely at Eva, "I won't be scared anymore, Eva," he said, seeing Eva smile back at him.

Once the stable boy was back in the room, the man snatched the items from his grasp, muttering something about taking too long. Erik watched as the man ripped the parchment in two, then as he bent over the desk and began to write. The sharp scratching of the quill on the parchment was the only noise to be heard in the room as Erik waited for the man to be done. The stable boy walked around the room aimlessly before he found his way to the man who was still sprawled in the middle of the room. Erik looked down and noticed that the man was terribly wounded, if he wasn't dead already. A large gash could be seen on his neck and red blood spilled out of it to stain the man's vest. Erik gasped when he noticed the size of the cut and the amount of blood, and then realized that the scratching of the quill had stopped. The stable boy snapped his head back up and found to his amazement that the man was staring at the other man with a pained expression on his face, his eyebrows creased and his mouth set in a straight line. Erik moved quickly away from the body, his movement attracting the attention of the other man.

"Here," the man growled, moving to stand closely in front of Erik, "You will take this to the Royal City of Aquios," he said, shoving one of the halves of parchment into Erik's hands, "There is a warrior who lives there. I want you to deliver this to her. Her name is Nel Zelpher. She has red hair and is a very well known warrior. You should be able to find her in the castle, and if not, give it directly to the Queen. I've written her name on the back of the parchment, should you forget it." The man then moved closer to Erik, pushing him roughly against the wall and glaring down into the boy's face, "If you mess this up, boy, and give it to someone other than Zelpher or the Queen, I shall personally see to it that you and that little girl in the common room with whom you are so fond of are dragged through hell and back. Do I make myself clear?" he hissed, watching as the boy nodded frantically. "Good," he said, backing away from the boy, "Here," he continued, tossing the boy a cloth pouch. Erik opened it and looked inside, his eyes widening when he saw the amount of fol that had been given to him. The stable boy looked back up with mouth agape to see the man smirking.

"Is this for me, sir?" Erik squeaked out, not able to believe what he was seeing. This was at least the amount of money he would have gotten for working for five years!

The man nodded. "Yes, and Zelpher will double that when you give her the letter. Do you know the way to Aquios?" the man asked, seeing the boy nod uncertainly, "Just go through the front gates and follow the path. It will eventually lead to Aquios." Erik nodded again, and then fidgeted nervously. Was this really happening? "Go now, and should you fail, remember…" the man said, clicking the claws on his strange metal arm dangerously. Erik gulped and turned to walk out of the room, before he heard the man behind him hiss, "Hurry!" and then he began to run.

Erik ran back to the common room and hurried over to Eva, who had stood up from her desk with a worried expression stamped on her face.

"Erik?" she asked, putting her hands on his shoulders as she searched his face, "Is everything alright?"

"Eva, Eva!" Erik said excitedly, shoving the pouch into her hands, "Look! Look what the man has given me! All I have to do is deliver this letter and then I'll have double that!" Erik couldn't contain his happiness as he smiled up into Eva's face.

"Oh, Erik! This is wonderful!" she sighed, glad that the man hadn't done anything to hurt Erik, "I'm truly happy for you."

"Yeah, it's great! Now I have to go to Aquios and deliver this letter. I'll come back for you, Eva, and we can get our own house and live together like a family! Like you and your brother did before he died…" Erik trailed off, turning around to leave. Eva stopped him and held the pouch out, but Erik motioned for her to keep it. "I don't need it. You keep this for yourself, Eva." He said, smiling broadly.

Eva smiled her thanks before opening it to take out a handful of coins. "Here," she said, holding her hand out and dropping the money into Erik's hand, "You take this for your journey. Good luck, Erik. I'll be waiting for you when you get back." Eva put her hand on the boy's head and ruffled his hair before he turned around once again to leave.

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Albel watched as the stable boy ran out of the room before he shut the door, turning back around to stand over Fayt's dead body. Fayt may be dead, but Albel sure as hell wasn't going to give him up without a fight.

The swordsman unsheathed a short dagger that had been strapped to his waist and looked at it, seeing a reflection of himself in the bright metal. He gripped the black hilt tightly, staring into his own reflection.

_"I really am a fool…"_ Albel thought to himself, before holding out his bandaged arm and setting the sharp side of the dagger to his wrist. The swordsman grimaced when he felt the dagger bite into his burnt flesh as he dragged the knife up his forearm, tracing the blue artery that was found there. Red blood seeped out of the deep cut, and Albel quickly kneeled down next to Fayt. Albel let the blood fall onto the floor next to Fayt, quickly becoming dizzy but not allowing himself to pass out yet. The swordsman quickly cut his other wrist before he became too dizzy, then held both of his arms out to allow the blood to pool on the floor. Albel then began to smear his blood on the floor, dragging his left hand through the thick liquid to create a circle wide enough for both him and Fayt to fit in. Albel's vision blurred and he knew he didn't have much time left. Quickly finishing the circle of blood, Albel picked the dagger back up and stabbed it into the wooden floor in between Fayt and himself.

What appeared to be black light came from the dagger as soon as Albel let go of the hilt. The light, or shadow, began to seep throughout the room before it gathered itself back to the circle that Albel had created with his blood. The last thing Albel saw before he passed out was the shadow covering Fayt's lifeless body. Then all was black.

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"Excuse me! Nel? Nel Zelpher?" The red haired warrior turned around agitatedly when she heard her name called, searching the crowd of people for the one who had called for her. A small boy was running up to her, his face flushed and in his hand he had a piece of what looked like parchment. "I…I was told to give this to you," he said, holding out the piece of parchment as he tried to catch his breath. Nel creased her eyebrows and frowned when she saw the handwriting. She didn't recognize it.

"Thanks…" she said, looking back to the boy, who was staring at her expectantly.

"I was also told that you would pay me…?" he said, shifting uncomfortably. Nel opened the letter and searched it to see who had signed it.

"Albel?" she said incredulously, reaching into the pouch strapped to her side and producing a few coins. She handed them absent mindedly to the small boy, who looked at them before looking back up to the woman.

"Umm…he said that you would double what he gave me, and he gave me at least 5000 fol," the boy mumbled, sounding extremely nervous. Nel stared at him, then motioned for him to wait while she read the letter. What could be so important that Albel would pay a poor boy 5000 fol to deliver a letter?

_Zelpher,_

_Fayt's dead, but I think I know a way to bring him back to life. In order for me to do that, I have to kill myself, so by the time you get this letter I will already be dead. I need you to come to Peterny and go to the inn that is right off of the market square. It's on the street that heads east. The girl at the front of the inn should know what room we are in. What you need to do once you get here is to heal us. You need to get our bodies living once again, so to speak. I don't expect you to understand, but you must come to Peterny. I've left another note inthe room further explaining what must be done._

_-Albel _

_"Fayt and Albel…dead?"_ Nel thought, feeling light headed. The boy who had delivered the letter cleared his throat, bringing Nel back to reality.

"Oh, yes…your payment," Nel said, reaching into her pouch once again, this time producing a ring, "Give this to the Queen. She will see to it that you are paid in full. Also, tell her that I had to go to Peterny on urgent business." The young woman said, handing the ring to the boy.

"Alright, and thank you, miss!" the boy said excitedly, before weaving his way back through the crowd of people, heading towards the castle. Nel turned around and began to walk towards the gate that led out of Aquios and to Peterny. It was almost like she was in a dream, it all seemed so unreal. Fayt and Albel couldn't be dead…they just couldn't be.

Once the red haired warrior got to the dirt road, she began to run towards Peterny, confused and jumbled thoughts filling her head.

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Ta da! How was that? Sucky? Yeah, yeah I know. I sort of blame Albel's oocness on the fact that Fayt died and he's sort of like… "Whoaaaaa, maaaaannn…I am sooooooo out of it…" but that's just me trying to blame something other than the fact that I am a sucky writer. I'll have to munch a few scones before I continue. Thanks for all the 43(?) reviews, everybody! RAWK!


	12. Shimeru's Life

Yatta! 12th chapta! As for the Erik and Eva thing…I hope all y'all don't mind if I just totally forget about them and not finish their story…I mean, I don't think anybody will care, right? So, let's just say that Erik gets paid his oodles and oodles of cash and him and Eva live together happily ever after…in a brother/sister sort of relationship...ja.

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"…_Fayt?" Albel whispered into the darkness, kneeling over the teenager's body. The swordsman gritted his teeth as he grabbed Fayt by the shoulders, lifting the younger man's body into his lap. The teenager's head fell back, the wound on his neck gaping open. _

_Furrowing his eyebrows, Albel lifted Fayt's head up, staring into the younger man's face that looked like a mask, it was so pale. Albel tried not to acknowledge the feeling of panic that had risen in him, but the pressure on his stomach and chest made it difficult to breathe. The swordsman took a deep breath and put a shaking hand to his forehead, noticing the sheen of sweat there. _

_"Fayt's dead," Albel thought, his breath catching in his throat when he thought those two words. Albel closed his eyes and let his chin fall to his chest, thinking back to the other two times when he had felt this panicked._

_The first time had been when Albel's mother died. Albel had been ten years old when his mother started feeling ill, and had been eleven when she passed away. The second time had been when Albel's father had died protecting him, making the swordsman feel responsible for Glou Nox's death. Both times had been when someone Albel had loved died._

_"Damn…" Albel thought as he opened his eyes to stare back into Fayt's face. Did the cold hearted swordsman really love Fayt? Albel felt his heart skip a beat and immediately knew the answer to that question, whether he chose to recognize it or not._

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Albel the Wicked opened his eyes as his memories vanished, a cold chill settling into the spaces that they had left behind. The swordsman groaned as he sat up, squinting as his eyes attempted to adjust to the new darkness that now surrounded him. Where was he? The last thing Albel could remember was sitting in the chapel with Fayt…

Albel's eyes widened as he fully remembered what had happened the past day. Fayt had died and now Albel was in the Underworld attempting to rescue him.

_"Shit, this is ridiculous," _the swordsman thought, standing up and putting his arm out to lean against the wall, _"What did I expect? To find Fayt's soul among the millions of souls down here only to somehow find my way back to Elicoor?"_ Albel rubbed his temples as he thought of his seemingly impossible mission.

The dagger had opened the "portal" to the Underworld, allowing for him and Fayt to return to the land of the living. The dagger also made it easier for the spirit to return into the body once it found its way out of the Underworld. Albel's blood had outlined the portal, creating a sort of border to where the boundary between the land of the living and the land of the dead was broken. If Albel hadn't drew an outline for the portal, the two worlds would be set free of any boundaries, allowing the spirits to break free and wreak havoc upon Elicoor. Albel had only briefly considered this option. Now, as it were, only two problems stood in his way. The first problem was finding Fayt, the second was finding the portal again. Albel glanced around the tunnel, looking for some tell-tale circle that would indicate where the portal was. The swordsman had no such luck, however, and began to walk down the long tunnel to look for Fayt.

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Nel burst through the tavern door, searching frantically for the girl that Albel had mentioned in his letter. Several of the patrons were casting mean looks her way, but she paid them no heed. The red haired warrior walked to the front desk where a wrinkled old man was staring at her expectantly.

"May I help you?" he asked kindly, although he was wringing his hands in what looked to be nervousness.

"Yes. Is there a small girl who works here who I might be able to speak with?" Nel asked, inclining her head slightly so that red locks fell into her face.

"Ah, that girl left only days ago. She was working here, but left with her parents. I am sorry. Might I interest you in a drink?" the old man asked, smiling pleasantly.

"Nice try," Nel growled, moving around the edge of the desk to stand directly in front of the frail old man. She couldn't afford to waste any time. "I know that she was working here only last night, so I suggest that you show me to her if you intend to keep your life."

"Y…yes, miss, please, right this way," the old man stuttered, backing away from the infuriated woman to walk down a short hallway. Nel followed closely behind the old man to ensure that he wouldn't try to escape.

"Please, take your time," the old man grumbled as he opened the door to a small room. Nel nodded curtly before stepping into the room, glancing around and noticing how sparsely it was furnished. The young woman looked at the worn out bed and saw a young girl with blond hair staring at her with wide, brown eyes.

"W…what do you want?" she asked, her voice quivering with fear. Nel sighed and moved to stand at the edge of the bed.

"Last night a man came here who probably had a younger man with blue hair with him, correct?" Nel asked, trying to make her voice sound as calm as possible. The young girl simply nodded, still not able to make out what situation she was in. "Do you remember what room you gave to them?" the red haired warrior questioned, raising her eyebrows hopefully.

"Oh, yes. I do remember, but…" the girl trailed, looking to the door then back to Nel. "…but I'm not allowed to leave my room until the inn keeper says I can. I usually take care of the tavern after he falls asleep, and he doesn't want me to be tired should my time to watch the tavern come sooner than expected." Nel sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, closing her eyes as she began to think of different ways in which she could find Albel and Fayt. The young girl cleared her throat and began to speak again, this time rather tentatively, "Umm, I'm really not allowed to tell you this, since I don't know what sort of business you have with those two, but I put them in room six. They haven't left, at all actually, so they still should be there. It's strange, though. Usually the patrons come and go to shop or eat, but I haven't seen those two since the one man came last night. I should warn you that the other man, the one with blue hair, was unconscious. Erik, the other boy who works here, even said he looked dead…"

Nel thanked the young girl quickly before walking stiffly out of the room, walking down the hallway as she searched for room number six.

Nel counted up until she was at the door that led to Albel and Fayt. Taking a breath to steady herself, the young woman grasped the doorknob and turned it, expecting to hear the 'click' of the door opening. It was locked. Nel cursed under her breath as she tried the doorknob again, only to get the same results even though she hadn't really expected anything different.

"Shit…" she muttered, puttering her ear against the rough wood to see if she could hear anything in the room behind the door. The red haired warrior furrowed her brow when she heard what sounded like sobbing, followed by a loud, high pitched noise that almost knocked her back from the door.

"What the hell…?" Nel said, stepping away from the door.

"What in the hell was that noise!" the young woman heard the old man yell, then turned to see him running down the hallway towards her. "Damned customers, if you can't keep your voices down then get out of my tavern!" he continued, brushing past her to pound on the door.

"Do you have to key to this room?" Nel asked frantically, grabbing the old man by the shoulders and shaking him slightly.

"Wha…? Yes, yes of course I do. But that doesn't mean I'm giving it over to you!" the old man added when he saw the look on the young woman's face, fumbling at his waist for the ring of keys that was strapped there. The young woman wrenched it from his grasp and, before he could utter a word of protest, began searching the keys for the one labeled "6".

Nel found it and jammed it into the keyhole, turning it quickly and smiling to herself when she heard the lock turn. The red haired warrior grabbed the doorknob once again and turned it, using her weight to push the door open. Nel dropped the ring of keys when she saw what was on the other side of the door.

Albel and Fayt were lying in the middle of the room, a ring of what appeared to be blood surrounding them. The circle was filled with darkness, it seemed as if a hole had appeared in the middle of the room's floor, dropping for miles. This wasn't the only thing that sent a bitter chill running down her spine.

A small girl was sitting in the corner of the room, upon a bed that had been pushed there. She was sobbing into her hands, her small form shaking with wracking breaths. Nel's eyebrows creased as she walked towards the small girl, wondering who she could be.

"Are you alright?" the red warrior asked, an expression of concern coming over her face. The young girl snapped her head up, and Nel almost yelled out when she saw what had previously been hidden by the girls long, brown locks.

Blood stained the girls cheeks, acting as tears that ran from her eyes to her jaw. Her hands were stained in the blood tears, as was her dress. The girl saw her own hands and started screaming, her voice a shrill wail.

"W…no! I didn't kill him! I swear! Please, believe me!" her voice turned into a pleading whimper, but began to rise again when she saw Nel, "Help me! Please, help me! Help me!" the last word she drew out, then broke into sobs again, bending over as if she felt sick.

Nel watched, feeling her throat constrict as a feeling of horror rushed over her. This girl was already dead. It was only after the girl began sobbing again that Nel noticed the bright red line that wound around her neck. Somebody had strangled her.

The red haired warrior's breath came in short gasps when she noticed the young girl's sobs had ceased and had been replaced by a breathing that seemed choked. The brunette snapped her eyes over Nel once again, a terrified look creeping into her wide orbs.

"M…mommy?" she asked, crawling towards Nel on her hands and knees, "Mommy, I swear I didn't kill baby Nikki. It wasn't my fault. Mommy, I saw what happened. Why don't you believe me? Mommy? Mommy are you listening to me?" Nel put a hand to her mouth, trying not to look at the young girl.

"W…wait here. Mommy will be back in a few minutes," Nel said, deciding to play along with the spirit.

Nel turned around and searched for the second note that Albel had said he left her in the letter, walking over to the desk and finding a second piece of parchment there. It contained instructions on what to do in order to ensure that Albel and Fayt would be able to return. The red haired woman glanced to the side when she heard the young girl begin to hum to herself a tune that she had probably learned from her mother. Nel looked back to the note that also explained the circle of blood and the dagger that was stabbed into the floor in between Fayt and Albel. Apparently the circle acted as a portal between the two worlds, and the young girl had somehow managed to stumble through it without realizing what had happened. She didn't know she was dead.

Nel turned around and walked back to the bed, sitting down on it next to the young girl. The girl smiled happily at her "mom" and moved to make room for Nel. The red haired warrior looked into the young girl's eyes and tried to figure out what she should do.

"It's time for bed, sweetie," Nel said, patting the young spirit on the head, who was surprisingly solid.

"Okay mommy. Will you be here when I wake up?" she asked, her eyes drooping lazily.

"Yes, of course," Nel replied, smiling comfortingly as she watched the young girl settle herself on the bed.

"Goodnight mommy," the girl murmured, her eyelids falling shut.

"…goodnight," Nel replied, trying not to think about the strangeness of this situation.

Once the girl was breathing steadily, Nel turned back to the two corpses and kneeled next to Fayt, remembering what Albel had said in the instructions. The red haired woman put her hand over Fayt's neck and wiped some blood away from the large gash. She then wiped the blood over Albel's blood, tracing her hand over the dark brown line until fresh blood had covered half of the circle. If Albel was right, this would make sure that Fayt would be able to get out of the Underworld, and make it easier for him to reenter his body.

Nel then began the daunting task of healing their bodies, which was obviously needed in order for them to live again. Nel didn't claim to be the best healer around, and knew that the only reason Albel had asked for her was because anyone who hadn't known the two men wouldn't have healed them, thinking that there was no way for them to come back to life, since they were quite obviously dead. Since Nel hadn't bothered to hone her healing skills to their finest, the task of healing two already dead bodies would be taxing on her. She not only had to heal their physical wounds, but also had to get their hearts pumping again. Their bodies had to be living in order for their spirits to reenter their bodies, and to be able to stay there. If the bodies were dead and Albel and Fayt tried to resume their bodies, their spirits would be taken back to the Underworld, since they were technically dead.

Nel sat cross legged on the floor and reached into the pouch that was strapped around her waist, producing several potions that would help her restore some of the magic that would be used during healing. Hopefully all would go well and she would be able to get their hearts pumping again. Once their hearts were beating, Nel's mission would be complete, as the hearts would continue to beat without her aid. Well, at least that's what Albel said…

Nel inhaled deeply and began to heal them, blue light swirling around their bodies as the large, gaping wound on Fayt's neck began to knit together and as the deep cuts on Albel's wrists began to close. Nel watched with satisfaction as the wounds healed, then noticed the strange angle that Fayt's leg was jutting out at. It was obviously broken, and Nel grimaced when she realized she wouldn't be able to heal it until she knew she had enough strength to get their hearts pumping.

The red haired woman took one of the potions and drank it, the relatively small task of healing them taking most of her power. This would be tougher than she thought…

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Albel raised an eyebrow when he found himself in a large room covered with paintings. He had seen paintings that were similar to the ones in this room when he was walking down the tunnel, but hadn't thought anything of them. Now, however, he was somewhat intrigued as to what they could be.

Albel walked briskly to one of the walls, closely examining the paintings. Every painting was of a different person, no two were the same. Albel pursed his lips and continued to scan the wall, noticing how every painting was of death.

_"I wonder if I'm painted somewhere…"_ Albel thought morbidly, grinning wickedly to himself as he continued to the other side of the room where he had noticed another tunnel earlier.

Once Albel reached the tunnel, he began to walk down it, scanning the walls as he went by. Albel was so engrossed in the paintings that he almost didn't see the spirit running towards him, his eyes wide with fright. Albel dodged out of the way in time to avoid a collision, and heard as the man brushed past him a loud rumble emanating throughout the walls, then all was silent. Albel turned around quickly to ask what the noise had been, but found to his annoyance that the spirit had continued to run, and was now almost out of hearing distance.

"Bastard…" Albel growled, turning back around to continue walking down the tunnel.

Before he could get too far, however, another spirit came running towards him, this one female. Albel didn't bother dodging this spirit, but instead caught her by the arm as she attempted to push past him. The spirit turned to stare at him, her pupils small, black dots in the center of blue irises. Albel opened his mouth to ask what the noise had been, but was cut off by the female spirit.

"Are you crazy?" she snapped, glancing back down the tunnel as if she expected death to come running down it with a legion of soldiers at any second, "He's gone mad! He'll kill everyone, you included!" she hissed, wrenching her arm free of the swordsman's grasp.

Albel snorted and was about to ask how they could be killed, since they were already dead, but stopped when he heard the deep rumbling again. The silence after the noise was worse than the sound itself. The silence seemed…unnatural. Albel shrugged to himself and continued walking, deciding to see for himself just who or what had the power to kill someone who was already dead.

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Nel turned away from the bed, walking towards the two corpses and leaving the young spirit to battle her dreams of the past. The young girl whimpered slightly, pulling her knees to her chest as she slipped further and further into her dream-like trance…

_The girl's name had been Shimeru. Her mother, Hakari Eichi, had married a man named Aritomo Nox, a man held in high regards in the kingdom of Airyglyph. Aritomo had been a diplomat, a strange contrast to his brother, Glou, who had taken up the sword to defend his country through battle. _

_Shimeru had been the illegitimate child of a man her mother barely known. Her real father had been a young traveler from the land of Aquaria. Shimeru's mother had only told her that he had been a runologist and that he had been especially skillful in the arts of healing. Shimeru didn't know why her mother had told her this, since Hakari was usually mean to her daughter by telling her day after day how she had been a mistake and how she had made problems for Hakari and Aritomo. Mostly Shimeru wished she hadn't been born, thinking that she was the source of all of the family's problems._

_The real problem, however, had been with Hakari Eichi. She had been ill for quite some time, and no matter how hard she and Aritomo tried, they couldn't have a child of their own. The only reason they kept Shimeru was because they didn't want to look bad by sending their only child to fend for herself. The only reason they kept Shimeru was for appearances. _

_When Shimeru had turned 7, she noticed a slight change in how she felt. She could feel something inside of her that she knew nobody else had. Shimeru began experimenting with Runology, teaching herself the basics of healing and picking locks. The young girl had found to her delight that she was especially skilled when it came to healing, just like her real father._

The young girl on the bed shivered as a cold sweat broke out on her brow. Shimeru gathered the blankets around her shoulders tightly, knowing what she would dream of next…

_That day had been the day when everything started to go wrong. Shimeru remembered her mother and father yelling at each other. Her mother was scared, her father was scared, also, but not in the same way. Hakari was telling Aritomo about her sister who had fallen ill. Hakari's sister had married Glou, Aritomo's brother. Shimeru's aunt had the same illness that had plagued her mother for many years. The only difference between the two cases was that Hakari's sister was dying more quickly than Hakari._

_Shimeru had known for a long time that her mother was dying. Hakari liked to taunt Shimeru when things were bad, asking Shimeru how she would live when her mother wasn't there to take care of her. Shimeru knew her mother was dying, and yet it didn't bother her._

_Shimeru remembered that day vividly, because that was the day when Shimeru found out that she had a cousin who lived close by. Aritomo had yelled something about a boy named Albel, asking what he would do once his mother died. He was only ten years old. That was when Hakari had broken into sobs, telling Aritomo that Albel would die too. Any child that the females of the Eichi family produced were doomed to carry the same illness that their mothers had. That meant Shimeru had the disease as well._

_Nobody knew the cure to this terrible illness. Nobody knew its origins. Nobody knew when it would take the life of the person infected with it. It might be at the moment before their natural death, or it might be at the moment of birth. _

_Hakari had ceased her crying then, and had turned to Aritomo, whispering something in his ear. Aritomo had turned around and punched his wife, his knuckles cracking against her jaw bone. Shimeru had cried out and shut her eyes tightly, trying not to imagine what was happening in the room where her mother and father were. Aritomo had begun to laugh, his voice cold and icy._

_"Oh, so now you're pregnant," he had rasped, rubbing his knuckles vigorously, "I see. So you tell me only after your pregnant that my heir will be infected with the same god damn disease that rots inside of you!" Aritomo had yelled the last sentence, then began to walk out of the room, his fingers tangled in his hair as he tried to make sense of all that had happened in his seemingly perfect life. _

_Shimeru had smiled. Her life was falling apart around her and she had smiled. Shimeru knew that she would be able to find a way to cure this disease. Maybe, if she did that, her mother would finally look upon her with something other than disdain in her eyes. _

_Once Shimeru had made up her mind about finding a way, using her powers, to cure the illness, she locked herself away in her room for weeks, only coming out to eat and drink. She barely slept, the only thing running through her mind a determined resolve to save the cousin she hadn't met. Yes, she had wanted to impress her mother, but she distinctly remembered wanting to save the life of Albel._

_Finally, after months of working with runology and symbology, the now eight year old thought she knew the cure to the disease. Shimeru had walked out of her room with a triumphant grin on her face, barely able to contain the joy she felt at being useful for once. _

_She had wanted to run straight away to her aunt's house to heal her cousin, but her mother had stood in her way, sweat falling from her forehead as she stood over the small child. _

"_It was you, wasn't it?" she had said, a distraught look drawing her face down, making it look hollow, "You killed Nikki, didn't you? It's that man who tainted your blood. You're different. You used his powers to kill your brother!" she had accused, pointing a shaking finger at her only daughter. _

"_Mommy…what? I don't understand…" the flabbergasted child had stammered, backing up in an attempt to get away from her mother. _

"_Of course you don't, dear," Hakari soothed, bending down to embrace the trembling girl, "Of course you don't…" _

_Shimeru gasped when she felt her mother's cold fingers wrap around her neck, then began to cry when her mother picked her up and took her into the other room. _

_Blood was staining the table that was in the middle of the room, and on the table was an infant. Shimeru noticed that the baby wasn't moving._

"_Mommy! Is that my brother? Did you have the baby?" Shimeru had asked excitedly, mistaking the still pink baby as alive. Hakari had grabbed a fistful of Shimeru's hair in reply, dragging her towards the small corpse._

"_Yes, he was your brother! He was your brother until you killed him!" Hakari had wailed, jerking the small girl's head back and forth by her hair. Shimeru began screaming, screaming for her father, for her cousin…anybody that might come to aid her. Nobody came to save her from her mother's fists as the crazed woman began to hit her child. Nobody came to save her from her mother's accusations that Shimeru had killed the baby. Nobody came to save her from the rope that her mother wound around her neck. Nobody came to watch as a mother strangled her child._

The small girl in the bed sat up, more blood tears spilling down her cheeks. Shimeru pulled her knees to her chest and wept quietly, noticing the woman who she had previously thought her mother attempting to heal two bodies. Shimeru crawled quietly out of the bed and tip-toed over to stand on the opposite side of the circle in which the bodies lay. The small spirit noticed that one of the men looked remarkably like her mother, his facial features soft when he slept, but she was sure they were harsh when awake. Shimeru knew why she had stumbled through this strange portal and had been forced to relive the last few months of her life.

Kneeling down next to Albel, Shimeru stretched her hands out and began to heal the cousin she was never able to meet.

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A/N: Sorry to end on the solemn note, but if this chapter got any bigger I think I might explode! There's some of what was running through Albel's head at the moment…I know some of you requested that I write it…so I did, just for you! Chapter 13 comin' up!


	13. Mr Brightside

I have some bad news for some of you…I'm dropping the story after this chapter.

pauses PFFT! HA! How many people did I scare? Huh? Anyone? looks around but sees no amused faces, only ones who think the authoress is a freaking reject Oh. Heh heh…sorry.

A long A/N for this chapter, so be prepared! Yes our teeth and ambitions are bared! Ah, Lion King flashbacks…

Um, just for those of you who follow the story, the rating is going to soon change to M, if ya catch meh drift? wink wink dies Okay, yeah. So the next chapter I post, I'm going to change the rating to M…because…I…can…dies again So be sure to change the little scrolly rating settings thing to All when you look for my story. I don't know about anyone else, but my computer automatically puts the rating settings to K-T…yeah.

Also, the character that I invented, Shimeru, has a freakin' awesome name that I thought I'd point out because I'm full of myself. Her name translates (from Japanese) to "wring" or "strangle". Heh. I was kind of looking through my nifty Japanese dictionary and happened to like the word Shimeru, and so when I looked at the meaning I freaked out. "STRANGLE, WHAT? LIKE HOW SHE DIES!" Needless to say, my sister (who was in the room at the time) now thinks I'm insane. XD

Also also, I would like to say that I really enjoy getting reviews from all of you voondabar people! I don't really say much about it, normally, and so I felt kind of bad. But I love reading the feedback, especially when people tell me what they think is going to happen in the story. It's sort of cool to see how the story could go, if I wasn't going to write it like that originally. And hey! 69 reviews! …69…dies again again

So, there's my little shchpeil. Thank you all so very much!

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Albel began feeling unnerved as more and more spirits rushed past him in an attempt to get away from whatever the hell was making the noise up ahead. The sound didn't seem to follow any particular pattern, but the eerie silence always followed.

Cursing under his breath, Albel roughly shoved aside a spirit as he made his way against the rush of souls. The swordsman didn't have to fight his way much longer, however, because up ahead Albel saw that the walls to the tunnel disappeared, leaving a vast, empty space.

Walking closer to see what had happened, Albel saw a figure sitting on the floor of what had previously been the tunnel. Everything else around the figure was gone.

Creasing his eyebrows Albel silently stepped closer, squinting his eyes to make out what the figure was.

The swordsman almost fell over when he saw the bright shade of blue coloring the spirits hair.

"Fayt?" he whispered, almost not believing that he had found the one boy he had been looking for out of millions and millions of spirits. Albel began to walk towards the teenager, but stopped abruptly when a smooth voice sounded behind him.

"I wouldn't go near him, if I were you," it purred into Albel's ear, making the swordsman feel sick to his stomach. The voice didn't seem as if it had ever been human.

Albel turned, quickly unsheathing the sword that was still strapped to his waist, but soon realized the uselessness of weapons in the Underworld. Albel sheathed it again, glancing up through his bangs to see a pale man standing in front of him with white hair that fell to his shoulders.

"Oh? And why is that?" Albel hissed, narrowing his eyes and promptly deciding that he didn't like this man, whoever the hell he was.

"That boy out there," the man said, walking to stand next to Albel and then pointing to Fayt with a long, thin finger, "has gone mad, and is very dangerous. I've never seen anything like it. He's magnificent…" the man mused, stroking his chin and looking approvingly on the teenager.

"What do you mean, 'gone mad'? And just how is he dangerous?" Albel asked doubtfully, glaring at the man who was looking at Fayt as one would look at a new sword, searching for faults within the blade or the craftsmanship.

"I mean what I say. He's gone mad, his mind has snapped. Some spirits do that, you know. They get down here with their expectations too high as to what the Underworld will be, and they can't handle it. That's what's happened with this boy." The man inclined his head towards Fayt, then glanced over to Albel, "Why the concern?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"How is he dangerous?" Albel repeated, glaring heatedly at the man next to him.

"Oh, I don't know. He sits there, hasn't moved at all, by the way, and when a spirit tries to walk up to him they just…disappear. It's like nothing I've ever seen before," the man said again, smiling cheerfully. His smile faltered when he saw Albel's suspicious stare, then clapped his hands twice, "Here, I'll show you," he said, his voice thick with anticipation. Apparently, the man could never see enough of what Albel was about to witness.

A white, misty substance appeared in front of the man standing next to Albel. The man looked over to Albel and said, "Weaker spirit," as an explanation for what the essence floating in front of him was. Albel furrowed his eyebrows as he watched the man whisper something to the spirit, then saw the spirit drift towards Fayt. Albel watched closely as the weaker spirit continued to drift towards Fayt, getting closer and closer to the small boy. The rumbling that Albel had heard so many times before began again, this time louder as he was closer to the source of it. The swordsman watched in disbelief as Fayt turned his head toward the approaching spirit, blue light swirling around him. Albel's eyebrows creased as Fayt opened his eyes; the usual bright, green eyes that Albel had known so well were gone and replaced by a milky white, as if his eyes had rolled back into his head. The blue light grew brighter as the spirit approached, and when Albel saw the expression on Fayt's face he felt a shiver run down his spine. The swordsman had never seen such pure hatred before.

The spirit continued to drift closer to Fayt, and when it was only a few feet from the teenager, the blue light that had been surrounding Fayt encircled the spirit, lacing in and out of the confused soul. Albel blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, the spirit had vanished.

"There you have it," the man next to him said cheerfully as he turned to look at Albel, who had put a hand to his mouth and was fighting the urge to lean against the wall.

"Wha…what did you do to him?" Albel snarled, turning on the man and shoving him up against the wall.

"My, my!" the man exclaimed, a hint of amusement touching his voice, "Such anger! Protective, are we?" he finished, clapping his hands in front of him as he stared down into Albel's face.

"I swear if you've done anything to hurt him, I'll fucking tear you apart," Albel growled, his voice shaking slightly. The man clicked his tongue in mock disapproval.

"Now, now. Is that any way to talk to your king?" he asked smugly, smiling as he saw the words sink in. Albel sneered and backed away from the King of the Dead, turning his head so that he could see Fayt. What had they done to him? Albel glared back to the King of the Dead before turning once again to face Fayt.

"Fayt?" he called, searching the teenager's face for any flicker of emotion. The boy continued to stare forward, not even acknowledging that he had heard the swordsman.

"What did I tell you? His mind has snapped. Even if he _could_ hear you, his mind wouldn't be able to register the words. You're speaking in a completely different language to him." The King of the Dead moved closer to Albel, leaning in closely so that he could whisper into his ear, "Regretting that you didn't tell Fayt you loved him sooner?" The King of the Dead leaned back, watching with amusement as Albel's shoulders tensed, the swordsman's posture becoming rigid. Albel was about to punch his "king" when a voice floated down the tunnel to meet their ears.

"Oh, leave him alone, my lord. Please." Albel's eyes widened as he recognized the voice.

Before, when Albel had heard this man's voice, it had been broken with madness and stained with bloodlust. Now, it seemed clear, and almost weary.

Albel turned sharply and saw a young man standing only a few feet behind him. His hair was black and his eyes green. Albel remembered digging his claws into this man's neck. Albel remembered this man slowly drawing a knife across Fayt's neck, creating the wound that would kill the teenager.

Albel snarled and lunged towards the man, hitting him in the chest and knocking him to the ground, the swordsman landing on top of the frightened spirit.

"W…wait! Please, wait Albel!" the man yelled, fright making his voice thick.

"Why should I?" Albel growled, digging the claws attached to his left arm into the spirit's side. Seishiki whimpered as the sharp metal blades dug deeper. Apparently spirits could still feel pain, for which Albel was glad. "It was you who killed Fayt, wasn't it?" Albel asked, his face inches from Seishiki's. "Wasn't it!" he yelled when the spirit didn't respond, ripping his claws out of the man's side only to stab them back into the wound, this time deeper.

"Yes, you know very well that it was I who killed Fayt! But please listen, A…" Seishiki clenched his teeth together, trying not to cry out in pain, "Albel, I was mad! I had no control over my actions!" the spirit pleaded, trying to get the crazed swordsman to understand. Albel snorted, smirking into the terrified spirit's face.

"Oh, you were mad! Everyone's mad these days, I think. You're mad, Fayt's mad, he's mad," Albel said, waving his hand in the king's direction, who glared at Albel, though the swordsman didn't notice, "and I _must_ be mad. The moment I came down here was the moment I turned mad." Albel leaned in closer to the spirit, his breath sending a chill down Seishiki's spine, "Being mad isn't an excuse for killing Fayt." Albel ripped his claws back out of Seishiki's side, bringing them up to his throat. The swordsman grabbed the spirit's neck, the claws digging into his throat in a cruel resemblance to the day Seishiki died. Albel was about to point this out to the spirit when he felt himself being thrown back away from Seishiki, who was now standing up. Albel jumped back to his feet and unsheathed his sword when he felt a cold hand on his shoulder.

"Albel, Albel, Albel," the King of the Dead sighed, patting the swordsman on the shoulder, "I can't have you killing Seishiki here. He's very important to me, and is very useful. You see, Albel, he is the spirit who helped me become the King of the Dead. He's the spirit who told me not to fear you, oh no, not you," the King added, his lips curling into a condescending smile when he saw the scowl on Albel's face, "but your companion, who is now sitting mere yards from us."

Albel glanced over his shoulder, past the King of the Dead, to see that Fayt had resumed his indifferent demeanor, staring into nothingness once more.

"Fayt?" Albel breathed, wondering why Seishiki would be more frightened of a small teenager than he would be of Albel the Wicked.

"My god, he doesn't know!" the king exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air as if her were distressed. Albel glared at the strange man, trying his hardest not to ask what he didn't know. His pride wouldn't allow him to, plus he was sure the king would tell him…sooner or later.

The King of the Dead walked over to Seishiki and threw an arm around the spirit's shoulders, turning his head to talk to him as they made their way towards Albel.

"I thought you would have told him about Fayt in order to separate the two," the king said, smiling widely, "well, even though you didn't tell him, I'm surprised he didn't find out for himself. After all they _were_…companions." The King of the Dead said the last word suggestively, as if there was something more to Fayt and Albel's camaraderie.

The king stood closely at Albel's side, staring towards Fayt as he considered his options. "You really don't know, do you?" he asked, his voice surprisingly subdued. Albel's eyes widened as he shrugged, still not willing to admit that he had no idea what they were talking about. The king sighed and placed a placating hand on Albel's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "You do know that Fayt is the embodiment of destruction, yes?" he asked, then continued when he saw Albel nod, "Well, what you saw only moments ago was a small portion of what being the embodiment of destruction means. So much power…" the king breathed, his eyes glazing over with a distant look that made Albel feel cold. "He's a tool," he continued, his voice sounding excited, "he's a tool that I must figure out how to use. If only I could learn to control that power…" he trailed, his words rushed as if he hadn't enough time to say them. Seishiki began to panic as he saw the effect his king's words were having on the swordsman, and began to whisper to the king urgently, telling him to calm down.

"Please, my lord, let's leave," the spirit pleaded, "You've been here for most of the day. There are other matters you must see to." The King's eyes snapped over Seishiki, a look of mistrust creeping into them.

"Such as what, Seishiki?" he asked calmly, his voice deep, his words no longer jumbled, "Do not think," he continued, "that just because you are the second most powerful spirit down here that you can order me around." Seishiki shook his head, black locks falling into his eyes as he began to answer his king.

"No, my lord. It's just that you were saying yesterday how you had work to do, and I figured that since there is nothing better to do…" the spirit trailed, looking helplessly at the King of the Dead, who was now scowling at Seishiki.

"Yes, yes of course you're right," he sighed, "Hell, you're always right! I suppose I should get to work on subduing that small rebellion down by the fifth level.." the king mused, scratching his chin.

"Would you like me to take care of it for you, my lord?" Seishiki asked, turning the King around to lead him back down the tunnel.

"No, no that's alright, Seishiki. I should probably do it myself…" Albel heard the King say, listening until their voices eventually disappeared.

Albel fell to the ground after the two spirit's voices faded away, burying his face in his hands.

_"What am I supposed to do?" _Albel wondered, lifting his head back up to look at Fayt, _"What can I do so that you'll hear me?"_

Albel knelt on the floor of the tunnel, a defeated look on his face, as he stared into the blank eyes of the boy who had broken through the masks the swordsman had made for himself so that he wouldn't be hurt again. The boy who Albel had grown to love stared back at him with cold, emotionless, unfeeling eyes.

_"…my fault…"_ Albel's eyes widened.

_"Who…?"_ the swordsman thought, breaking eye contact with Fayt as he looked down the long, winding tunnel to see if anyone was there. When Albel realized that he hadn't actually heard the voice, he looked back to Fayt. Was the teenager who seemed nothing more than a shell speaking to him somehow? Albel pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on his knees, once again staring into Fayt's dead, green eyes.

_"…my fault…they're all dead…why couldn't I save them?...my fault…" _Sweat beaded on Albel's forehead as he realized what he was hearing. He was listening to Fayt's soul. It was laid bare, since there was no corporal body to contain it in. Albel realized that the only reason he hadn't been able to hear the king's soul or Seishiki's soul was because they had walls, so to speak, surrounding themselves that they had constructed. Since Fayt's mind had snapped, he had no idea that anybody could read the innermost thoughts of his mind.

The swordsman closed his eyes, knowing that he was hearing what the teenager had been telling himself for the last few years of his life.

_"…my fault…I always screw up…I'm not normal…I'm the embodiment of destruction…everyone died because of me…Sophia's hurt because of me…my fault…" _

Albel felt his stomach lurch when he thought how well he knew these thoughts. Albel felt like screaming. It killed him to finally realize all the hurt that the small boy had gone through the past few years. Albel felt something warm slide down his cheek and reached up to brush away the tear that had slipped from his blood red eye. Albel glanced to the tear that was sitting on his hand and raised his eyebrows. He hadn't cried since his father died…

Hugging his knees to his chest tightly, Albel continued to stare into Fayt's eyes, wishing that he could somehow ease the pain the boy was still going through, even after death.

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Nel slumped forward, her breathing coming in irregular pants. She hadn't yet managed to get Fayt's heart pumping again, and had already used all of her potions except for one.

_"Damn…"_ she thought, reaching out to grab the last of the bottles. Nel glanced up through her bangs that were soaked with sweat to see the young girl still healing Albel.

The red haired woman had noticed the small girl when she had stopped healing Fayt to drink the first of her potions, and had almost panicked, thinking that the girl was trying to hurt Albel. The young girl, as if she sensed Nel's distress, had looked up and had stared into Nel's eyes, a soothing look on her face.

"It's alright," she had said, "I'll help you."

Nel had been cautious still, checking to make sure that she was in fact healing Albel and not doing the opposite. When she was satisfied, Nel had gone back to healing Fayt, each girl doing their own part.

Now, though, Nel could see the obvious results of the young spirit exerting herself too much. Nel stood up and walked over to the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder.

When the spirit looked up from Albel, Nel smiled down at her and asked, "Are you alright?"

The girl nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Nel nodded and walked back to Fayt, downing the last of her potions in what she hoped would be the last few hours of healing.

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Fayt sat cross legged on the floor, his eyes wide open and yet unseeing. Fayt was staring into the past, reliving all of his mistakes.

_"…my fault…they all died…Sophia's hurt….my fault…"_ the strange, prayer-like chant he had been repeating to himself mentally consisting of nothing but self hatred. All of the people Fayt had failed to save, all of the people he had hurt were nothing but thoughts, memories, and yet finally they were seeking revenge by swamping the teenager's conscience with hatred.

_"Heh, pathetic." _Cold sweat beaded on Fayt's brow when he realized that there was another spirit in the same room with him. Without wanting to, Fayt felt the power that had previously been buried deep within himself uncoil and come to life, ready to lash out at the intruder if the need arose. Fayt vainly tried to keep his power at bay, as he had done so many times before, but it was no use. Fayt would always be looked upon as something less than human, even in the Underworld.

"A tool," a voice whispered inside of him, making Fayt feel sick as he awaited for the usual headache that came with using his powers.

Fayt felt his awareness expand, his power searching for the spirit who had stumbled too close to Fayt. The teenager found the person, and to his amazement, realized that the spirit was sitting directly in front of him, rather than walking towards him as all the other spirits had done. Fayt felt his powers gather, knowing that the loud, rumbling noise would come next. The teenager focused his mind on the man sitting in front of him, and was almost knocked backwards when a rush of emotions greeted him. Fayt recognized the others soul as Albel, and quickly reined his powers in, forgetting about everything else as he focused on the swordsman.

The blue haired boy realized that he was feeling all of the emotions that the young swordsmen felt for him. Admiration, appreciation, rivalry, all the emotions that Fayt expected the older man to have for him. But below that, buried deeper to where Fayt had to concentrate even harder, were emotions that Fayt never would have dreamed of resided. Protectiveness, gratefulness, fright, anxiousness, longing, lust… Fayt tried not to blush when he recognized this emotion, but was unsuccessful when he felt his cheeks begin to burn, knowing that they were turning bright pink. Fayt straightened his posture and began to focus on Albel once more, his heart beating rapidly as he searched for one emotion in particular. Fayt looked deeper and deeper into Albel's soul, finding to his surprise no resistance from the swordsman. There, buried under layers and layers of emotions, was the one that Fayt had been searching for. It seemed like a small flicker of light that was likely to be engulfed in shadows at any moment. Fayt also noticed that the light seemed restrained, almost as if Albel himself hadn't fully accepted it for what it was: love.

Fayt's heart skipped a beat as he desperately attempted to focus on the outside world, his vision blurry. The teenager blinked rapidly as he tried to see through the thick fog, tears springing up in his eyes when he realized that Albel must be dead.

Once his vision had cleared, Fayt saw Albel where he knew he had been sitting, directly in front of him. Albel didn't see Fayt as the teenager silently stood up, since his forehead was resting on his knees that were drawn to his chest.

"Albel?" Fayt said, his voice cracking since he hadn't spoken in hours. Albel's head snapped up, his eyes wide as he saw the teenager standing in front of him. Fayt shifted his feet nervously as the swordsman simply stared at him, then the teenager reached up hastily to brush away the tears that were now running down his face. "Albel, I…" Fayt began, walking to stand closely in front of the older man, "I don't understand…what have you done…!" Fayt stopped talking as Albel quickly wrapped his slender fingers around the teenager's wrist, pulling sharply so that Fayt tripped and fell on top of the swordsman.

"Albel! Wha?" Fayt said nervously, his voice being quieted by Albel as he laid a finger to the teenager's lips.

"Shh, be quiet," Albel whispered, slowly easing Fayt onto his back so that he was now straddling the younger man's hips. Albel pinned Fayt's wrists on either side of his head, staring down into the teenager's face with a look that both frightened and excited the younger man. Fayt's heart raced in his chest, a million questions buzzing in his mind that he hadn't the courage to ask.

"I've missed you, Leingod," Albel growled, all the questions disappearing as Albel closed the distance between their mouths, kissing Fayt with a hunger that reinforced his words. Fayt shut his eyes tightly, feeling Albel's hand leave his wrist to trace down his arm, pausing at the zipper to his vest. Fayt groaned into Albel's mouth, parting his lips as the swordsman slowly slid his tongue past Fayt's lips to entwine with the younger man's tongue. Fayt reached up with his free hand to explore the swordsman's lower back, feeling the smooth skin and the taught muscle underneath that was exposed due to his cut-off tank top.

Quite suddenly, Albel broke the kiss and lifted his head up, staring intently down the dark tunnel that loomed behind them. Fayt dropped his hand from Albel's back and noticed that the older man had his hand closed around the zipper to his vest.

"Albel?" Fayt asked nervously, craning his neck to see what the swordsman was looking at.

"Be quiet," Albel snapped, glancing down to Fayt. "Do you hear that?" he asked, creasing his eyebrows.

"Hear what?" Fayt wondered out loud, turning over so that he was now lying on his stomach. Albel remained where he was, straddling the younger man's hips with his eyes fixed to the darkness beyond. Fayt strained his ears as he tried to hear what obviously troubled Albel. He only managed to blush, however, when he realized what position he had put himself in.

"There," Albel hissed into Fayt's ear, quickly bringing the blue haired boy back to reality. Fayt concentrated on listening once more, his eyebrows arching when he heard it. Footfalls echoed down the tunnel. How Albel had heard the almost silent noise amazed Fayt, since he could barely hear it now.

Fayt heard Albel curse under his breath, then felt the swordsman's body heat leave him as Albel stood up, motioning for Fayt to do the same.

"Who is it?" Fayt asked, staring down the tunnel as the footsteps continued to get louder.

"I don't know," Albel whispered, "but I have a hunch." At any other time, Fayt would have made fun of Albel for using Cliff's terminology, but when Fayt glanced over to Albel, the look on the swordsman's face told him that it was hardly something to joke about.

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A/N: As for the next chapter, my muse has run away again. I had her in a tea kettle, but she somehow escaped…so, it might take me a while to write it. I'm sorry!

As for the name of this chapter, I guess I'll say here that it is a song by The Killers. They're a good band. Check 'em out. Oh, and I am aware that Mr. Brightside has nothing to do with the chapter. I just love that song. XD


	14. For Lack of a Better Name

…HEY! Daaa dee daa dum dum DA DA! Jazz hands! Sha sha sha sha! …Okay, here's where I make lame excuses about why I haven't updated in a few centuries. Umm…there are none. So, I'm really sorry. And…If you all hate me…that's fine, too. OH! Here's a lame excuse. I'm obsessed with RENT. Eh, eh? Maybe someone out there understands. I'm actually cheating on you guys. I'm writing a RENT fic. So…yeah. Here's a lot. I was hoping that I would be able to finish the story in this chapter, but as the fates would have it (or the FAYTS! Yuck yuck…-gets shot-) I wasn't able to. So, here's just chapter 14. And I will HOPEFULLY finish the fic in chapter 15.

A/N that all must read: The SCENE OF JOY -wink wink- was helped INCREDIBLY by my older sister (who basically made it what it is), Baka-Sensei. Make sure you check out her GOOSEBERRYBUSH CHRONICLES. They're incredibly hilarious.

AND NOW if you all want the "unedited" version of the SCENE OF JOY, go to my profile. I'll put a link to it there, since it won't let me here. -smacks computer-

Be sure not togo thereif you don't like R rated guy on guy slash. But if you do…well then. Enjoy!

* * *

The King of the Dead walked quickly towards the end of the tunnel, his feet barely making a sound as they hit the cold, stone floor. He hadn't thought waking Fayt had been possible, otherwise he would have done it by himself, but all the same he congratulated himself for deciding to leave the swordsman alone with the crazed spirit. 

"_Now all I have to do is to find out a way to control the boy," _The king thought to himself, quickening his footsteps, _"then I will be unbeatable."_ The King of the Dead smiled to himself as he turned the last corner, coming to a stop in front of an angry Albel and a rather disheveled-looking Fayt.

"My, my," the king mused, arching his eyebrows, "Interrupt something, did I?" The king's smile broadened when he saw Fayt blush and look away, that small gesture confirming the King of the Dead's suspicion.

"What do you want?" Albel snapped, his anger apparent as he sidestepped to stand in front of Fayt.

"What makes you think I want something?" the King of the Dead asked innocently, pursing his lips as he looked from Fayt to Albel. The swordsman glared at the man standing in front of him, who was smiling sweetly at the two men.

"Umm…" Fayt muttered, putting a hand on Albel's shoulder to try to calm the vehement swordsman, "Albel, what's going on? Who is that?"

The king chuckled deeply in his throat as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I believe I told you this before, Fayt Leingod, but I am the King of the Dead. The reason why you don't remember me is probably because after I had introduced myself your mind snapped. Quite frightening, really. But now that I see you sane, I suppose you're not as scary as you were before. You're quite cute, actually," the king added, smirking when he saw Albel's shoulders tense at his last words. "Now, Fayt, if you'll kindly come with me, I have some…matters that I must discuss with you," the king cooed, his voice sounding business-like. The ever trusting Fayt nodded his head and began to walk around Albel when the older man put his arm out, blocking the teenager's way to the king. Fayt looked up at Albel quizzically to see that the swordsman wasn't paying attention to him at all, but was staring raptly at the King of the Dead.

"You can talk to Fayt here, can't you?" Albel asked, keeping his voice even.

The King of the Dead smirked, shaking a finger in Albel's direction. "You know, Albel, you are a very, very distrustful person. Can't you just have faith in someone for once?" The swordsman glared at the king as he gripped the hilt of the Crimson Scourge, readying himself for battle. The king sighed, shaking his head slightly as he saw Albel in his fighting stance, and leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed.

"I see we're going to have to do this the hard way, then," he breathed, closing his eyes and waiting for the swordsman to make his move. Albel quickly lunged towards the king, slicing his sword across the spirit's chest, but quickly recoiled when he noticed that the king was no longer there.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. Let's call it a day, hmm?" Albel's eyes widened when he heard the king's voice directly behind him, wondering how the spirit had seemingly teleported from one spot to another. Albel clenched his teeth when he felt the spirit's powerful hands grab each of his wrists, the king's left hand twisting Albel's arm so that he would drop the Crimson Scourge.

"Albel!" Fayt shouted, his voice full of panic as he ran towards the two struggling men.

"Stay back, Mr. Leingod!" the King of the Dead yelled, turning around in order to show Fayt that he had not harmed the swordsman, merely subdued him. Albel grimaced as he felt pain pulse up his arms from where the king was holding him by the wrists.

"Why are you doing this?" Fayt asked, his voice full of concern.

"Because, Mr. Leingod, you are a very important person down here in the Underworld. Because you are the embodiment of destruction, and I won't have you slip through my fingers only to let your powers rot inside of you. You have a gift, Mr. Leingod, and I'll have your gift before this day is out. Now, I suggest you listen to what I have to say before we make any rash conclusions," the king explained, seeing the look of hatred etched into Fayt's features. He had only needed to see that look once to recognize what it meant, and he couldn't have the teenager destroying him with the very power he wished to control. "Now, unless you want Mr. Nox here to be tortured senseless, I suggest you listen to me."

Fayt's eyebrows creased as he weighed his two options.

Albel knew that Fayt would be fool enough to listen to the King of the Dead, and managed to gasp out before the king choked the breath out of him once more, "Don't listen to him, Fayt!" Fayt looked pleadingly at Albel, then to the king, who had a very displeased look on his face.

"Going to listen to your lover, then?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. Fayt looked back to the swordsman's desperate face, then slowly nodded his head. "I see. We really _are_ going to have to do this the hard way, aren't we?" the king said thinly, tightening his grip on the swordsman's wrists. "Very well, let's get this over with." The King of the Dead threw Albel to the ground, then knelt next to the swordsman before Albel could react and placed the palm of his hand on Albel's forehead. Fayt watched as Albel dragged his fingernails across the hard stone floor, the noise grating against the teenager's ears. The swordsman pulled his knees underneath him, kneeling on the floor only a few feet away from Fayt. The younger man saw a flash of pain cross Albel's features before the man grabbed fistfuls of hair as he bent over, his elbows resting on his thighs.

"What are you doing to him?" Fayt asked urgently, attempting to run towards Albel but found to his dismay that something was blocking his way to the swordsman. Fayt watched helplessly as the swordsman's face contorted into a silent scream, his eyes shut tightly as tears ran down his cheeks.

"I am forcing him to relive the worst of his memories," the King of the Dead whispered, a fascinated look on his face. "It appears that Mr. Nox has had to live through some terrible events." Albel began to scream, his voice ragged, his breaths coming in short gasps. Fayt watched helplessly as Albel's thin frame shuddered violently.

"Stop!" Fayt yelled, tears coursing down his cheeks as he watched Albel gasp for breath.

"You will do whatever I wish, then?" the king asked, leaning over once more to grab a fistful of Albel's hair, yanking the swordsman's head up so that Fayt could see the pained expression on his face.

"Yes, gods yes, just don't hurt him anymore," Fayt promised, watching as Albel collapsed to the floor.

"Thank you for cooperating so nicely!" the king said, still kneeling next to Albel's motionless body. "Now, what you need to do is to be a good boy and do whatever it is I ask of you. Don't try anything that I wouldn't want you to do, though, because if you do Mr. Nox here will wish he had never killed himself to save you." Fayt's breath caught in his throat.

"_Albel killed himself…to save me?"_ Fayt wondered, feeling a shudder run throughout his body, _"How was he planning on saving me if we're both dead?" _Fayt snapped his eyes back over the king when he heard the spirit clear his throat impatiently, keeping his gaze even.

"Oh, good. I thought for a moment that you had gone crazy once again…" the King of the Dead muttered, raising an eyebrow at the teenager, "Now, to get straight to the point... What I need you to do is to be my right hand man, so to speak. I need your power to help me remain the King of the Dead. I quite like the title, you see.

"Lately there have been rebellions, the latest one just today on the fifth level. You'll find on the ninth level a sort of prison, and in this prison are…oh, I don't know…around a million or so souls. They are prisoners that I took during my rebellion against the previous King of the Dead.

"As you probably know, you are the only one who is able to make spirits in the Underworld disappear forever. I can make them disappear, but only for a short amount of time and when they reappear they are in a _completely_ different part of the Underworld and I have to find them and, as you can see, the cycle can become quite vicious. So, the first thing I need for you to do is to destroy every last soul in the prison that is on the ninth level." the king paused here, looking at Fayt questioningly, "Will you be able to do this for me?" Fayt creased his eyebrows as he realized what the king had put before him.

"_If I kill millions of innocent souls, it will be my fault. If I don't, then Albel is tortured mercilessly. It's my fault Albel's down here. Either way, there's nobody to blame but me…"_ Fayt felt himself go cold at this thought, remembering the swordsman's words of warning against the King of the Dead. Fayt smiled slightly, the edges of his mouth turning up in tired resignation. _"I guess Albel doesn't realize that I would rather kill millions of souls than to see him suffer before my eyes, due to my own carelessness,"_ Fayt thought sadly, turning around to face the man who was waiting keenly for an answer. Fayt nodded his head, which brought a toothy grin to the King of the Dead's face.

"Good, good," he said, nodding his head enthusiastically, "Well then, let's get started. I'm pretty sure you can destroy the spirits from up here, can't you? I mean, when you were mad, you didn't even see the spirits you destroyed, since your eyes were rolled back into your head." Fayt sneered, noticing for the first time how much the king knew of his power. He must have studied Fayt from a safe distance. "Oh, and just for safety reasons… If you try to destroy me, I am linked to Mr. Nox's soul, which will result in his destruction as well as mine." At this, the king smiled pleasantly. "Now then, on to business! Go ahead, you may start. Also, don't try to convince me that you've done your job when you haven't. Seishiki is on the ninth level, linked telepathically with me so as to inform me if you've done your job well." The King of the Dead motioned for Fayt to begin, and, leaving the teenager no other options, the blue haired boy turned his back on the two spirits and concentrated on the ninth level, searching its depth for the millions of souls he would soon destroy.

* * *

"_Albel."_ The swordsman groaned as he opened his eyes, his vision blurry._ "Don't move, Albel,"_ the voice whispered again. Albel fought to see through the fog that still clouded his vision, seeing above him two figures. The swordsman blinked rapidly, piecing together all that had happened, the conclusion making Albel anxious. 

"_Albel, honey, relax. I told you not to move," _the voice whispered inside of his head again. Albel looked up, seeing two spirits hovering over him.

"…mother? Father?" the swordsman breathed, not believing his eyes as he recognized the two spirits as his parents, who were long since dead. Albel's mother laid a finger to her lips, motioning for him to be quiet.

"_Talk like this, dear,"_ Albel heard his mother say, noticing that her lips weren't moving. Albel glanced frantically to his right, seeing that Fayt was in conversation with the King of the Dead, who had a hand placed to his forehead. The swordsman couldn't quite make out what they were saying, and began to fret.

"_Mother, father, why are you here? What's he doing to Fayt?"_ Albel asked, projecting his thoughts towards the spirits of his dead parents. Albel's breathing became erratic as he looked upon the perfect image of his parents. These were the only other two people Albel had loved, and he had blamed himself for both of their deaths. The swordsman hadn't been able to save his mother from the illness that took her, and hadn't even been at her side when she passed away. He hadn't made it back to her in time to comfort her as the last of her breaths left her. Albel had caused his father's death through his foolishness. The swordsman had been fifteen years old when he had failed the Accession of the Flame after not being able to release his feelings and empathize with the spirit of the air dragon. Albel should have died that day. Instead, his father, Glou Nox, had jumped in front of Albel, shielding his son from the hot flames that would have killed him.

"_Calm down, Albel,"_ his father's stern voice sounded inside of his head, the complete opposite of his mother's soft, gentle voice, _"We're here to help you."_

Albel slowly calmed down, surveying the scene that was playing out in front of him. Fayt was obviously disgusted with the King of the Dead, his revulsion apparent on his face as he stared blankly at the other spirit. Albel looked over to his parents and saw that they were watching him with a curious look on their faces.

"_What?"_ Albel snapped, seeing his parents simply smile at him in response. Glou walked to Albel's side, taking great care not to alert the King of the Dead to their presence.

"_Albel,"_ his father said, making sure that he was to the king's back, _"I'm going to get the King of the Dead's attention. During that time, I want you to break the link that he has forged with you. If Apris is willing, I will have him distracted enough so that it will be easy enough for you, even though you've never dealt with this sort of thing before."_ Albel felt his heart skip a beat when he thought of all the things that could go wrong. His father could be forced into the same position that he was in right now. Albel could fail, making Glou sacrifice himself for nothing…again.

"_Albel, are you ready?"_ Glou's voice brought Albel back from his thoughts, forcing the doubtful man to accept the terms that had been given him, no matter how vague. Albel watched as Glou stepped in front of the king, a white mist leaving him as soon as he was in front of the King of the Dead.

"What in the hell?" The swordsman heard the king breathe, wondering why he hadn't seen the spirit that was now in front of him before. Glou drew the long katana that was strapped to his waist and quickly sliced the blade through the air, barely missing the king's head as the King of the Dead ducked. Albel concentrated on the cool hand that was still pressed to his forehead, focusing all of his energy to breaking the link that he could feel connected to his soul. Albel smiled grimly when he heard the King of the Dead curse and lift his hand from the swordsman's forehead, his hand burning a bright red. Albel quickly jumped to his feet and drew the Crimson Scourge, the sword reacting to Albel's mood as it scraped against the sheath, creating a noise that sent chills of excitement down the swordsman's spine. Albel stood next to his father as they faced the King of the Dead, who was vainly trying to regain his composure.

"It seems there are stronger spirits in the Underworld than I had thought…" the king trailed, looking appraisingly on Glou Nox. "To stay undetected from me for so long…I hadn't thought it possible. But then again, there's a first time for everything…or so they say." The King of the Dead stood up, rubbing his hand where Albel had burned it. The swordsman looked over to Fayt, realizing for the first time that the teenager was sitting cross legged on the floor, the same distant look on his face that he had had when Albel had first found him. Albel looked over to his mother, who nodded at her son before slowly edging her way towards the blue haired boy.

"Who are you?" the king asked, looking at Glou with an interested expression on his face. Albel's father simply snorted before jumping to the left so quickly that Albel had difficulty following his movements. Glou jumped to the left of the king before using his momentum to jump forward, sliding to a stop behind the King of the Dead. The king turned around slowly, his eyes narrowed as his lips twitched into a smile. Albel stayed where he was, knowing his father well enough to recognize what Glou wanted of him. Now they had the only two possible ways of escape blocked off.

"I see," the king said thinly, keeping his gaze on Glou. "Well, if that's how it is to be, then who am I to delay this any longer?" The King of the Dead turned around quickly, putting his hand out so that his palm faced Albel. Albel furrowed his brow, wondering what exactly it was that the king was doing, until he felt something hit him in the chest, knocking him back to the ground before he could dodge. The swordsman lifted his head up off the ground, seeing that his father had taken the opportunity to attack. Glou and the King of the Dead were battling each other intensely, each warrior far exceeding the others expectations. Albel quickly stood back up, rushing in to join his father in the attack against the King of the Dead.

* * *

Albel and Glou worked perfectly together, their every move synchronized so that each opportunity to attack wasn't wasted. Albel stood to the back of the king, his chest rising and falling heavily with every breath he took. Glou was standing in front of the king no doubt analyzing the situation and planning his next attack accordingly. 

Albel took the short amount of time he had to glance to his left, where his mother was now attempting to help Fayt, who had fallen unconscious as soon as Albel's mother had reached him. Apparently there were some side effects to interrupting Fayt when the teenager was trying to use his power.

An icy chuckle made Albel jerk his head back towards the king, who was practically doubled over in laughter. "Ah, Glou," he sighed, straightening to look at Albel's father, "No matter what you do, this will all be for nothing. Useless attempts to save your son. You see, Glou," he continued, smiling slyly, "I know something about your previous life that will bring about your destruction." Glou creased his eyebrows, apparently waiting for the king to continue. Albel absent mindedly took a few steps towards the King of the Dead, seeing that his father was tense and obviously ready for the next attack. "You have a flaw, Glou," the king said, stalling the attack further with his captivating words, "Do you know what that flaw is?" the King of the Dead paused, obviously waiting for an answer, then sighed when he received none, "Well, let me ask this in a sort of round-about way. Are you aware that I can make spirits disappear?" Glou inclined his head, motioning that he did, "Well, let's just see what will happen…if I do this." The King of the Dead turned sharply, extending both hands towards Albel in one swift motion. Before Albel could blink, it was all over. The king's hands were now at his sides as he smiled smugly at the confused swordsman. "That was his flaw, just as I had guessed,' he said, his voice dripping with confidence, "you." Albel felt his breath leave him as he glanced around for his

* * *

Cliff made his way slowly back towards the Castle of Aquios, glancing indifferently at the market stands that displayed various trinkets from far off lands. The Klausian had scheduled another meeting with Queen Romera, his last meeting with her leaving him cold. 

_Cliff watched as Fayt turned his back on him, heading back down the hallway towards Albel, who was glaring at the teenager in pure hatred. Albel was always like that, though, and Cliff rolled his eyes disgustedly at the thought. Well, if the boy was going to be stubborn, then Cliff would just have to think of another way to get him safely home._

_The Klausian walked back down the hallway and towards the throne room, reminding himself of the meeting that he had made with the Queen. Cliff pulled the doors open roughly and walked down the elaborate rug that eventually led to the dais that Queen Romera's throne sat upon. Cliff found Romera sitting with a hand to her forehead, her eyebrows creased and a frightened look on her face. When the Klausian came to a stop in front of the dais, Queen Romera raised her head slowly to regard him, her eyes taking on a pleading look._

"_Ah, Cliff," she sighed raggedly, her voice thin from exhaustion, "forgive me. I was lost in thought. Now, I believe you've requested an audience with me regarding your friend, Fayt." _

"_Yeah, er, I mean, yes, your highness. I've already spoken with the King of Airyglyph, asking him if he has seen the kid, but it seems that you've already found him. I was just gonna ask you the same, but it seems that I don't need to, anymore. So, I'm sorry for wastin' your time, your majesty," Cliff explained, bowing slowly before straightening, expecting that this would be the end of their meeting._

"_Wait a moment, Cliff," the Queen said, raising her hand in the air and motioning for the Klausian to stay still, "I have learned some very disturbing facts concerning your blue haired friend…"_

Cliff snapped himself out of his memories, remembering that that had been the day when he had learned of what Fayt had entangled himself in. The dead? It didn't seem real. Cliff had made a promise to himself that if Albel did anything to hurt Fayt he would personally be the one to carry out the arrogant man's death. Later on during the same day in which Cliff had found out about Albel's intent, he had run into Fayt again by some stroke of good luck. The Klausian had foolishly let his friend leave, and was now regretting it terribly.

It was already a week after his first meeting with the Queen, further annoying the impatient man. If Romera knew anything else, Cliff would be interested to know. If not, then Cliff was determined to search the entire planet to find Fayt.

Cliff ascended the long stairway that led to the upper level of the Aquarian Castle, nodding curtly to the servants and visitors that passed him by. The Klausian wasn't one for niceties, always making him feel uncomfortable when he was in the presence of a noble or royal figure. Cliff would endure much worse to save his best friend, however.

The Klausian got to the large double doors that led to the throne room, trying not to look nervous as he walked once more down the long rug to once again stand in front of the Queen. Cliff bowed slightly, straightening to see that Queen Romera was staring intently at him. The Klausian shifted nervously, searching for something to say before the Queen broke the silence that had settled over the large chamber.

"It is nice to see you again, Cliff," she said pleasantly, bringing forth a slightly tense smile from the Klausian, "Lasselle has informed me that you are here again to talk with me about Fayt. I am sorry, but I haven't learned anything new." Queen Romera bowed her head and put her fingertips together, pursing her lips as she pushed her fingers to her mouth in an uneasy gesture. Cliff bowed once again, muttering his thanks before turning to leave.

"_Damn it," _Cliff thought, glaring at nothing in particular, _"I relied on her too much. I really thought that she would have more information for me… Now what am I gonna do?"_ The Klausian's thoughts were broken off by a loud shout coming from behind the doors, followed by sounds of footfalls echoing down the hallway. One of the large doors cracked open and a soldier poked his head into the room, looking both amused and uncertain.

"Your majesty," he said, glancing back down the hallway before looking back into the room, "forgive the intrusion, but there is a slight problem in the hallway…" Romera lifted her head up and creased her eyebrows, wondering what could be so important that would cause interruption for the busy Queen.

"What is it, Kimale?"

"Well, you see, there's a small boy out here who seeks an audience with your majesty…" the soldier, Kimale, trailed, looking somewhat frightened now.

"What is his reason for speaking with me?" the Queen asked, interest apparent in her voice.

"He says that he needs payment, for delivering a message. Your highness, he has Lady Nel's ring…"

"Send him in," Queen Romera said abruptly, her expression changing from interest to alarm. The door creaked open slightly and a small boy was shuffled through before the door shut behind him, making him jump. "Come closer, if you will," the Queen said, watching as the young boy walked closer to the throne. "There, now I can see you. My soldier has informed me that you have Lady Nel's ring. Explain yourself."

"I…I'm sorry, your majesty," the boy stuttered, shuffling his feet nervously, "I come from Peterny, and have only been in Aquios for a few hours. I was instructed to deliver a message to Nel Zelpher back in Peterny. The man who gave me the letter also gave me a large amount of fol, saying that Ms. Zelpher would double the amount he gave me. When I delivered the letter, however, Ms. Zelpher didn't have enough fol to pay me, so she gave me this ring instead, telling me to go to the castle, where I would receive payment from you, your majesty. Please, your majesty, I didn't mean to sound greedy. Please, have mercy on me, your majesty."

Romera smiled soothingly at the boy before speaking, "Do not fret, young one. What is your name?"

"Erik, your highness," the boy said proudly, grinning widely up at the Queen.

"Well, Erik, I will see to it that you are paid in full. How much is it that I owe you?"

"Well, your majesty, I haven't completed my end of the bargain yet. Ms. Zelpher also told me to inform you that she has gone to Peterny on urgent business," Erik said, noticing Cliff for the first time, who was standing off to the side.

"Urgent business?" Romera repeated, wondering what could divert the dedicated woman from completing the task that the Queen had already given her earlier that day. "Did she say anything else?"

"No, your highness. She muttered something to herself before she read the letter. I think she was saying a name. 'Albel', I think, is what she said." The Queen of Aquaria looked at Cliff, who wore the same expression of concern on his face that she was sure she had.

"Erik, thank you for telling me this. How much fol did I owe you?" the Queen asked, knowing that the boy had nothing more to say.

"Well, the man who gave me the letter gave me 5000 fol, so that would be…" Erik trailed, not wanting to sound presumptuous.

"10000 fol it is, then. Lasselle here," Romera said, putting a hand towards the man who was standing to her right, "will take you to our vaults, where he will get you the money I owe you. It was nice meeting you, Erik."

"Thank you, your highness!" the boy exclaimed before following Lasselle out of the room, talking animatedly to Lasselle, who was barely listening.

Queen Romera sighed and wondered how much more disturbances she could take in her already hectic life. The Queen of Aquaria looked back over to find Cliff, seeing that the man was already walking quickly towards the doors that led out of her audience chamber. The large doors slammed shut, revealing the haste in which the man had left.

"May Apris guide you," Romera whispered, her voice reflecting off of the bare walls.

* * *

Nel sat up quickly in the bed when she heard the noise coming from the common room. She had laid down only a few hours ago for a short nap, as healing Fayt and Albel had exhausted her. Nel glanced down to the floor, where the small girl was still sitting. She was waiting raptly for something, and Nel could only guess that it was for the two men to return to life. They had done all they could, though. The rest was up to Fayt and Albel. 

The red haired warrior stood up from the bed and walked to the door, a familiar voice reaching her ears.

"Come on, old man. Just give me the key!" a deep, male voice sounded throughout the tavern, making Nel sigh and shake her head. This day couldn't become any stranger.

The young woman opened the door and looked down the hallway to see a large, blonde haired man making his way towards her. He stopped when he saw Nel and broke out into a smile, turning back to the flustered inn keeper and handing him the key that he had forcefully taken from him.

"Cliff," Nel sighed, "what are you doing here?"

"Now, now," the Klausian chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck nervously, "Don't be angry, Nel. Is…ah…is Albel around?" Nel stared at Cliff for a few seconds, as if weighing her options. She then hung her head and opened the door wider, allowing the Klausian entrance.

Cliff walked into the room and watched as Nel shut the door behind him. The Klausian turned around, and when he saw the bodies of his two comrades, he broke out in a cold sweat.

"W…What is this, Nel? Are they hurt?"

"No, Cliff. They're dead. They have been for the past day. Here, why don't you read these letters…" Nel replied, producing the two notes that Albel had left for her. Cliff's brow furrowed as he read the two letters, looking back up to the red haired woman when he was done.

"What does this mean? 'I think I know a way to bring him back to life'? What's that supposed to mean?" Cliff asked once he had finished reading, searching Nel's face for an answer.

Nel sighed deeply before responding, her eyes full of sorrow as she gazed upon her fallen comrades. "I don't know, Cliff. I can't make any sense of it, either. You know as much as I do, by now. I've done my part. They're healed. Now all we can do is wait for them to return." Cliff's eyes fell heavily upon the two bodies, his mind in an uproar. If only he hadn't let Fayt leave…

The Klausian turned around sharply and leaned his back against the wall, slowly sliding down into a sitting position. He didn't know how Fayt had died, but he was pretty sure that it had something to do with Albel.

"_If…no…When those two get back, I'm gonna kill Albel. This time, though, I'll make sure he won't be able to come back…"_ Cliff thought angrily as he stared at the body of his best friend.

* * *

Maria looked up from her place at the table when she heard Mirage's communicator go off. Mirage motioned for a moment, and Maria nodded. Standing up from the table at the restaurant, Mirage weaved her way in between the many tables until she was standing in front of the doors that led to the brightly lit sidewalks. Taking her communicator in hand, Mirage pushed a button and Cliff's worried face came into view. 

"Cliff? What's wrong?" Mirage asked, worried for her younger brother's safety.

"Mirage, I've got some bad news…" he trailed, staring at something in front of him.

"What? What is it, Cliff?" The young woman repeated, wanting to know the cause of the usually solid man's distress. Mirage watched as Cliff's breath became uneven, his large gulps of air becoming more erratic. The Klausian woman saw a sheen of sweat covering Cliff's forehead, and could have sworn it looked as if the large man were holding back tears.

"Mirage, Fayt and Albel are dead," he said bluntly, looking for the first time into the communicator that he was holding so that his eyes stared directly into Mirage's.

"Wha…dead?" Mirage asked, her voice a whisper as she felt the air rush out of her lungs.

"Yeah, but Nel says that Albel knows a way to bring them back to life. I dunno, but I think that sounds a little far-fetched. Nel has faith in him, though. Mirage, you and Maria should probably come here so that if he doesn't wake up…"

"Y…yes. Alright, I'll bring Maria and Sophia. Where are you?"

"Peterny, at a small inn. It's on the road that heads east. I think it's called The Peddler. Hurry, sis, 'cause I don't know what's going to happen."

Mirage nodded slightly, taking a deep gulp of air as she felt her stomach plunge. The young woman flipped the communicator off and turned around, making her way back to the table.

Mirage, Maria and Sophia had all gone out to dinner, celebrating Sophia's birthday. The young girl didn't remember when her birthday was, but luckily Maria had remembered from previous conversations with Sophia that it was April 21st, which was today. They had taken the girl out for a festive celebration, but now the merriment was shattered with just one phone call.

When Mirage got back to the table, a heavy air fell over the light conversation Maria had been making with Sophia. Maria looked over to Mirage with a concerned expression coming over her face.

"Mirage? Who was that?" The blue haired girl asked, meaning the person who had called her on her communicator. Mirage sat back down in her chair and leaned her elbows on the table, putting her head in her hands. The Klausian wouldn't cry. No, her breeding ensured that she was too strong to show such emotions. Instead, Mirage lifted her head to stare directly at Maria, her voice slightly wavering as she sought out ways to tell them.

"It was Cliff. He called to tell me something…" Mirage trailed, still not sure on how to break the news to them.

"Tell you…what?" Maria leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. Sophia looked from Maria to Mirage, then back again. She was confused as to who Cliff was.

"He called to say that…Fayt and Albel are….dead."

"Dead? How?" Maria breathed, leaning back in her seat and putting a hand to her mouth.

"I don't know. He gave me his location, though. He wants us to meet him at the inn they are staying at. They're in Peterny…" Mirage looked directly into Maria's dark green eyes, seeing a darker tint of green underlying the first. Whenever Maria got that look, things didn't go well. Sitting back in her chair, Maria crossed her arms over her stomach and looked to the left, looking at nothing in particular. Fayt had been like a brother to her, and some of their friends thought that it was even possible for the two to be twins. They had never found out, however, but the bond between them was strong, none could deny that. Maria's ears began to ring as a sharp headache began to form, the pain spreading from her temples and throughout her forehead. Albel, in Maria's opinion, wasn't the most enjoyable person to be around, but she certainly didn't want to see him dead. And now they were both dead…

The blue haired teenager hastily wiped the tears that she found running down her cheeks away, snapping her gaze back over her friend. Sitting here crying wasn't going to help anyone, Maria decided.

"Alright. You ready our ship. I'll get our things packed and we'll be off of this rock in no time flat." Mirage nodded to Maria's commands, seeing the teenager slip back into her 'Leader of Quark' mode. Maria then turned to Sophia and took her small hand in her own. "Come on, Sophia. We're going on a trip and we might not be coming back for a while. You need to pack, so let's go back to your apartment first." Sophia looked excitedly to Mirage, who smiled encouragingly at the young teenager.

"Really? Where are we going?" Sophia chirped, clapping her hands together in front of her chest as she barely contained her excitement.

"Follow me, I'll tell you as we walk." Maria stood up from the table and Sophia immediately followed. The blue haired teenager nodded curtly to the young Klausian woman before making her way to the restaurant's exit.

* * *

Albel felt himself go cold at the thought of his father sacrificing himself so that he, his only son, might continue on. Looking back to the smug king, Albel tightened the grip on his katana. 

"Really, I thought Glou would have seen that coming. Apparently he's not as smart as I first perceived him to be…" the King of the Dead said airily, as if he were talking to himself. Albel snarled as he rushed towards the other spirit, the tip of his katana leading the way. The swordsman was consumed with rage as he slashed, blocked, and dodged the King of the Dead's attacks. He only stopped when he heard stirring behind him.

"Albel?" a familiar voice asked, the swordsman's breath catching in his throat when he recognized it as Fayt's. The fool was alright. Albel glanced to his left where the blue haired teenager was just getting up from the ground, his mother allowing Fayt to use her for support.

"Oh, wonderful! Truly, this is a splendid day. Not only did I get to get rid of one of the peskier spirits down here, but now I finally can resume my work with Mr. Leingod," the king said, a hint of uncertainty creeping into the cocky man's voice.

Albel's eyes widened as he heard a second sword being drawn, then a grim smile crept across his face when he saw Fayt out of the corner of his eye, standing next to him. The teenager had drawn the broadsword that was still strapped across his hip, and was now readying himself for battle. Albel cast a sidelong glance at the boy next to him and grinned, anxious for the battle to come. Fayt looked over to the swordsman and smiled meekly, obviously not feeling entirely well from his previous mishap.

"Now, this is unfair," the king pouted, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "two against one. I suppose that means that I'll just have to get rid of one of y…!" Before the King of the Dead could finish his last sentence, though, Albel and Fayt were already rushing towards him, one on either side. The King of the Dead turned to face Fayt, as he saw the teenager as a greater threat. Fayt winced as he felt something pressing on his chest, a pressure that began to spread throughout his entire body. The pressure suddenly lifted, and Fayt glanced up to see the King of the Dead hunched over and clutching his chest, the tip of Albel's katana piercing through his heart. The king began to make choking sounds, as if something was blocking his windpipe. Fayt walked closer to the King of the Dead, his brow furrowing as he realized the amount of pain the man must be in.

"Leingod, get away from him," the teenager heard Albel growl roughly, though he paid him no heed. He should help the man who was in pain…so much pain...

"Fayt! Stay away from him!" Albel yelled, grunting as he attempted to dislodge his sword from the king's chest. It shouldn't be this hard to cut through flesh… Albel looked down, realizing that what he was cutting wasn't flesh. The King of the Dead wasn't of flesh and blood. The swordsman's eyes widened when he saw that the king had constricted his spirit around the katana, holding the sharp blade in place. Sweat fell from Albel's brow as he glanced hurriedly back to Fayt, who was at arms length from the King of the Dead.

"Fayt!" the swordsman yelled one last time, gripping the hilt of the Crimson Scourge tightly before pulling heavily on it. Fayt couldn't hear Albel's last plea as he moved closer and closer to the spirit who was in so much pain. He should help him. Why was the spirit in pain? The man behind him, with the katana. He was the source of the spirits pain.

Fayt quickly moved behind both of the spirits, waiting until the man in front of him turned around. When he did, the teenager punched him, his knuckles cracking against the other spirit's jaw. Albel fell back as Fayt punched him, his bewilderment apparent in his expression. What was wrong with Fayt?

The King of the Dead turned about quickly and grabbed Fayt by the wrist, the young man gasping underneath the cold man's touch. Fayt blinked several times, feeling the vagueness leaving his mind. He hadn't wanted to punch Albel. It hadn't been him. The King of the Dead had invaded his mind, taking control of the confused teenager's body for a moment. Fayt gasped as he realized this and took a step towards Albel, who was glaring up at the two spirits from his arrangement on the ground. A sharp tug on his wrist brought Fayt back to his previous position, the King of the Dead still holding onto his wrist tightly.

"Please, don't try anything like that again," the King of the Dead implored, looking from Albel to Fayt, who was also glaring heatedly at the man who was holding him captive. Fayt could tell that, although the man was only holding onto him with one hand, there was no possible way of escaping. He could feel the other man's soul entering his body through his wrist, freezing him in place. The only way to break the King of the Dead's power over Fayt was to break the connection, or by separating the king's hand from his wrist.

"Ah ah ah!" the king scolded, shaking his head as Albel began to get up from the ground, "Stay there for now, if you would be so kind. Let me just inform you that if you do anything to displease me, your lover here won't be far behind your father. You don't have enough time to be waiting around for him to reappear, now do you? I believe that you only have another day before the portal closes and you two are forever lost to the living world, as everyone else down here is. Yes, yes I know of your little plan, Mr. Nox. It was very bold of you. And you came so close, too. Such a shame that you won't be able to succeed…" the king smiled broadly at the swordsman, who was doing his best not to throttle the other man. A stirring behind the King of the Dead caught Albel's attention, but he quickly looked back to the king, not wanting to give away that there was something behind him. The King of the Dead was talking again, but the swordsman wasn't listening. He was trying to focus on the thing that he had seen out of the corner of his eye, listening for any slight noise that it might make. Nothing betrayed its presence behind the arrogant spirit, and Albel began to doubt that he had actually seen anything. His doubts were soon erased when he saw his mother appear behind the king, who was still talking. Very quickly she reached to his wrist and grabbed it, squeezing it and twisting at the same time until a loud 'crack' emanated throughout the chamber. The King of the Dead howled as he lifted his broken wrist to his face, examining the damage that the woman had done. Fayt took the opportunity to jump away from the king, moving to stand next to Albel, who was already on his feet. The swordsman looked to his mother and nodded thankfully. If she hadn't been there, both Fayt and Albel would have been in trouble.

Fayt glanced to Albel and put his hand out slightly, his left hand grazing the swordsman's right. Albel looked over to the boy and immediately knew that the teenager meant to end the battle within the next attack. The swordsman nodded curtly before looking to his mother, who was still standing behind the king as he bent over his broken wrist. Icy laughter filled the tunnel as the King of the Dead stood up, his arm healing quickly before their eyes.

"A slight setback," the king said, motioning to Fayt who was no longer under his control, "However, there isn't a chance that you will win. Now, please, let us finish this so that I may get back to my original plans."

Albel knew that all he had to do was occupy the king's attention so that Fayt could use his powers to destroy him. This seemed to be easier said than done, however, since Albel had seen the King of the Dead fight before, knowing that he was capable of attacking multiple targets at once. The swordsman sneered slightly as he ran towards the king, executing an assault that left him frighteningly open to attack. Albel knew that the King of the Dead would take this advantage over him and focus all of his energy on him. At the last moment, Albel glanced over his shoulder to Fayt, who was already sitting on the floor with the familiar blue light swirling around him. The swordsman grimaced as he felt the king's attack, the impact knocking him back against the wall. Albel opened his eyes just in time to see the blue light begin to rotate around the King of the Dead, who was looking at it in horror. This couldn't be happening to him! He was the King of the Dead! Albel smiled malevolently as he watched the light lace in and out of the other spirit's essence, the look on the king's face unchanging. A loud noise in Fayt's direction diverted Albel's attention, and the swordsman looked over just in time to see a blur rush past the teenager, knocking him over in its haste. Albel quickly stood up and got into his fighting stance, wondering what it was this time.

* * *

Seishiki quickly ran down the tunnel, hearing sounds of a battle up ahead. He had left his 'station' on the ninth level when he realized what would befall his king. He couldn't allow them to kill the King of the Dead… They didn't understand. 

Coming to a quick halt, Seishiki quickly took in the situation. Albel was distracting the king as Fayt used his powers to destroy him. Seishiki couldn't allow that to happen. The spirit watched as Albel was knocked back by the king's attack, then ran quickly towards the King of the Dead, knocking Fayt over as he ran past him. The blue light that had previously been swirling in, out, and around the king's spirit disappeared, leaving only pain behind. The King of the Dead crumpled to the floor as soon as the blue light had left him, groaning slightly as the after-effects of Fayt's powers laced through his soul. Seishiki looked over to find Albel was already standing and had his katana firmly in his grip. Fayt was still on the ground, apparently out cold. Knowing that Albel wouldn't wait to listen to an explanation, Seishiki quickly turned around and watched the King of the Dead writhe on the ground. Summoning some of his powers, Seishiki extended both of his palms towards the writhing king, keeping his thoughts on what he intended to do, not on the swordsman to his left, who was running towards him with the intention to kill. In a bright flash of white the spirit's powers were released, engulfing the tunnel in light. Albel stopped running briefly as he waited for the light to dissipate. When it did, Albel found to his amazement that the King of the Dead was no longer there, but only one spirit who was standing with his hands behind his back, a frightened look on his face.

"Who are you, old man?" Albel sneered, keeping his distance as the old spirit in front of him began to shuffle his feet nervously.

"A friend, nothing more," he said simply, then motioned to Fayt, who was still lying on the ground. Albel glanced to the old spirit once more, a twinge of recognition making him hesitate before he went to Fayt's side, attempting to wake the teenager.

Albel had been trying to wake Fayt for the past five minutes, and had been toying with the idea of kicking the teenager awake when Fayt finally came to. Fayt blinked a few times before realization dawned on him and he hurriedly sat up, almost hitting his head against Albel's if it wasn't for the swordsman's quick reflexes.

"Albel, what happened? Where's the King of the Dead? Is he defeated? Did we win? Are you hurt? Am I hur…?" Albel quickly covered the boy's mouth with his hand, attempting to stem off the flow of questions that began to pour out of Fayt's mouth.

"Be quiet, fool. Your incessant prattling is giving me a headache." Albel put a hand to his head to pretend he was in pain, but when he saw Fayt's bright green eyes glaring at him over the top of his hand he snorted in amusement. "I don't know any more than you do. If you hadn't fainted…again…I might have been able to question the spirit that is standing behind you." Fayt turned around and gasped in surprise as he recognized the spirit.

"The chief elder from the village…?" he whispered, very confused as to what happened the few moments he had been knocked out. Albel nodded as he recognized the man, too. So that's who he was. The old spirit sighed and visibly sagged as if some great weight were weighing down his shoulders.

"I fear I have much to confess and explain," he said, sadness apparent in his shaking voice. Albel's shoulders tensed as the old man lifted his gaze, a familiar tint in those cold eyes that he had seen before…

"You!" Albel hissed, pushing Fayt behind him as he rose to a fighting stance. He would never forget the eyes of the man who had killed Fayt, even if he lived a thousand years. The old spirit put his hands up in a peaceful gesture, motioning that he did not want to fight.

"Albel, what are you doing?" Fayt murmured from behind Albel's back, wondering what had gotten into the older man.

"This is the man who killed you," Albel said bluntly, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind him.

"What are you talking about? The man who killed me was young…" the teenager trailed, confusion spreading across his boyish features.

A ragged sigh from the old man brought the attention back to him, and he said in a feeble voice, "He's right, Fayt. I am…or, was…the man who brought you into this world. Though I was in a different form at the time, the fact remains that I am the one who killed you."

"Bastard…" Albel snarled, moving forward to attack, but stopped when he felt a small hand on his upper arm.

"Wait, Albel. I want to hear what he has to say," Fayt stated calmly, though he was everything but. Seishiki bowed his head and began to tell his tale, starting with the time when he helped the King

of the Dead and ending when he got to where he killed Fayt.

"I went mad from the other's soul trying to reclaim its body. I know I must have caused both you

and Albel great pain. I am sorry." Fayt smiled softly and put a reassuring hand on the old man's

shoulder.

"It's alright," he said, "I forgive you." A loud snort from Albel made Fayt glare at the swordsman,

but he simply shrugged.

"Even if you forgive him, I won't," the swordsman declared, making Fayt scowl, then turn back to

the old spirit.

"I don't understand, though," the teenager began, "why did you interrupt my destroying the King of the Dead permanently when all you can do is make him disappear for a short while?" At this the old man smiled bitterly, sending chills down Fayt's spine.

"'He who defeats the King of the Dead is doomed to become him,'" the old spirit seemingly quoted, then looked up to meet Fayt's level stare. "In other words, if I had let you kill the king, you would have had to stay down here for the rest of eternity as the King of the Dead until some other spirit took over. I did it to redeem myself, and to hopefully set right all the things that I have done wrong." Fayt nodded at this when a thought struck him.

"Does that mean that now you're…?"

"…the new King of the Dead? Yes," he sighed, finishing Fayt's sentence for him, "I'm afraid so. I avoided the title before, but I guess there is no escaping it for me."

Fayt fell silent for a few moments, thinking about all of this new information he had just been given. _"What an adventurous life I lead,"_ Fayt thought and smiled, relieved in part that this extended journey was almost at an end.

Fayt looked over to Albel when he heard someone clear their throat, and saw to his surprise a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties or early thirties. She was smiling pleasantly at Fayt, who looked to Albel for clarification.

"This is my mother, Kacelia Nox," Albel introduced when he saw all faces turned to him expectantly. Albel's mother held her hand out and Fayt shook it gently.

"Um, hello, Mrs. Nox. I'm Fayt…Fayt Leingod. Your son aided me greatly in the battle for our galaxy."

Albel snorted and said snidely, "You don't have to be so polite, Leingod. It's just my mother." Fayt glared at Albel, but when he saw the look on Albel's face he knew that the man was in more pain than he wanted to admit after seeing his dead parents seemingly resurrected. Fayt began to walk towards Albel, but stopped when Albel's mother put an arm out to stop him.

"Let me," she said in a firm, clear voice, and Fayt had no choice but to nod.

Albel felt the guilt crushing him. He couldn't breathe. How could he even face his parent's spirits? He had been the one responsible for their deaths. Albel turned around when he felt his mother's presence behind him and held his emotions in check, not wanting to seem weak.

"Albel, dear," his mother sighed lovingly as she placed her hand on his cheek, 'I know all that you have been thinking these past years. I know the guilt and blame you place on yourself for your father's death, and for my death as well. It's not your fault that we died, Albel."

"No, mother, it is my fault. You don't understand. You were already dead when father…"

"I know, dear. Your father has both told and shown me what happened on that day. He wants you to know that he doesn't blame you, so you shouldn't blame yourself. Both of us were willing to give up our lives for you from the moment of your birth, not because we wanted you to live the rest of your life in misery, but because we love you, dear, and we want you to live a happy life…with whoever it is that you fall in love with," his mother added, casting a sly glance over her shoulder at Fayt, who was once again in conversation with Seishiki. Albel straightened slightly, turning his head to the side so that he might hide the color that was rising in his cheeks. "Listen to me, Albel," his mother continued, turning the young man's head so that he was looking at her again, "Do you know why your father gave up his life so many years ago to save yours?"

"It doesn't matter why he did it. I forever was and always will be his weakness." His mother gently shook her head before she responded.

"No, Albel. He gave up his life for you because he loves you. He has told me that he always knew you would be better than him one day. He said that you would surpass him in not only swordsmanship, but he always told me that you would be the better man. He's very proud of you, Albel, and I know that in life he never expressed his emotions, but he does love you."

"Tch," Albel scoffed, his gaze turning cold, "'the better man?' Mother, I've killed thousands of people, more than a few of them innocent. I don't know what father was talking about, but he's wrong about me."

"Don't think your father was perfect, Albel, because he wasn't. He had his faults, just as you do yours. The reason you aren't able to go beyond this downward spiral of self hatred is because you won't forgive yourself. Let it go, dear. Everyone has forgiven you but yourself." Albel looked at his mother for a long moment, desperately wanting to believe her words, but scared to. He knew his mother wouldn't lie to him, but he was still hesitant to change what he had been telling himself for over the past eight years. Albel bowed his head and crossed his arms over his stomach as he tried to make sense of all that his mother had told him. Kacelia smiled softly at her son before pulling him into a warm hug, her arms wrapped around his lithe form. At first, the grown man in him resisted, but then Kacelia felt him give in as he hugged her back briefly before dropping his arms to his side. Albel's mother stepped away from her son and took a moment to see the adult her small child had turned into. He hadn't changed much. His attitude, from what she could tell, hadn't left him, and he still kept his hair the same, both style and color. He had grown tall, his short arms and legs replaced by long, slender ones. The only thing that seemed different about him were his eyes, those same blood red eyes somehow changed by years of isolation, whether it was through his own choosing or not.

"Your father regrets that he never let you know that he loved you," she commented, her gaze never leaving him, "Never hesitate to tell those you love that you love them. You will regret it for the rest of your life if you don't." Albel scowled at her from beneath his bangs and Kacelia chuckled. She knew he wouldn't take to her motherly advice kindly. She noticed that Albel was looking over her shoulder and she turned around to find Fayt and Seishiki waiting patiently for them to be done.

"Seishiki's told me where we ought to be able to find the portal that leads out of the Underworld. We can leave whenever you're ready," Fayt said quietly, implying that there was no rush. Albel, however, had had his fill of the Underworld and now wanted nothing more than to be with Fayt back in the realm of the living, where things made sense. Kacelia sensed her son's anxiousness and placed a hand on his shoulder to command all of his attention.

"Live a life of no regrets; this is all that we ask of you. Goodbye, dear." Kacelia pulled him into a brief hug, whispering her love before disappearing all together, not wanting her only son to see the tears that were flowing freely down her face.

Albel stood still for a moment after his mother left him, reflecting on all that she had told him. The swordsman glanced up when he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes and looked over to see Fayt walking slowly towards him.

"…you alright?" the teenager asked after a brief moment of silence. Albel looked at Fayt and smiled ruefully when he heard the blue haired boy gasp. His normally crimson eyes were darkened with sorrow, his usually bright irises looked dead.

"Yeah…" Albel said in answer to Fayt's question. His voice hoarse as he found to his surprise his throat had constricted.

"Albel…" Fayt said quietly, closing the distance between them and raising his arms to wrap them around the tall man in a warm embrace. Albel, however, pushed Fayt away from him, instantly regretting it when he saw the look of shock on the teenager's face.

"It's not…I just…" Albel groped for the right words to say, but gave up and just sighed instead. The older man took a few steps to stand in front of Fayt, and, gently tipping the teenager's head up, bent over and kissed him quickly on the lips. "Can we just go?" the swordsman sighed, altogether too tired to explain to Fayt that he didn't like to be hugged, since it seemed like a useless gesture to him. Fayt grinned up at Albel and nodded.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," he agreed, turning around to Seishiki once more, only to find that the man had busied himself with looking at the paintings that covered the tunnel's walls. "Thanks for all the help you've been," Fayt said politely, bowing slightly.

"No, it is I who should be thanking you. Not only for your forgiveness, but for opening my eyes to the evils of our king. When he regenerates, I will see to it that he is locked up for eternity. Have a safe journey, and, if the gods are willing, may we see each other once again, as allies, not enemies."

Albel chuckled deeply in his throat and said under his breath, but still loud enough so that the old spirit would hear, "Don't count on it." Seishiki nodded sadly and bowed his head before disappearing before them, as Albel's mother had done.

"That was uncalled for," Fayt said angrily. Albel looked into the younger man's bright green eyes for a moment before smirking.

"Whatever," he said dismissively. Fayt was about to say something when Albel began to walk away from him. "Let's go home," the swordsman said over his shoulder, making Fayt smile as he ran to catch up with him.

* * *

"Do you feel that?" Fayt asked, staring into the darkness to the left of him. They had been walking for a few hours, following the directions that the new King of the Dead had given them, when they finally came upon the portal that would supposedly take them to the living world. They were just about to enter the portal when Fayt felt a strange sensation, almost like something tugging at the edges of his mind. 

"No, what?" Albel asked impatiently, his voice echoing down the long tunnel. Fayt walked towards the right wall and found to his amazement that there was another tunnel that had previously been hidden in shadow.

"Albel…there's a tunnel here," the teenager stated as he began to walk down it as if compelled by something.

"Leingod, where exactly are you going? The portal's right here!" Albel sighed, a little annoyed at the way his companion seemed to delay them.

"Just wait for me, Albel. I'll be back in a few minutes." Albel cursed and began to walk quickly after Fayt. Like hell he would ever let the boy out of his sight again.

At the end of the tunnel was a large chamber, big enough to hold a thousand people, still with room to move about. Albel watched as Fayt scanned the room, obviously looking for something.

"Someone's here…" the teenager muttered almost to himself. Quite suddenly a spirit appeared in front of the two men and Albel reflexively reached for his katana, but stopped when Fayt put out a hand.

"Sophia?" the blue haired boy breathed, braking out into a cold sweat as the young girl reached out to place her fingertips on Fayt's temples. The teenager fell to the floor as Sophia's soul completely melded with his.

"Fayt…" Sophia's voice whispered into his mind, sounding both sad and relieved.

"Sophia? Why are you here? You're not dead…" Fayt thought, knowing that since their spirits were one for the time being that they would be able to communicate without actually speaking.

"No, Fayt. Only half of me is alive. That day after we defeated Luther…a part of me died that day."

"Sophia, I'm sorry…it's all my fault…" Fayt said quietly, knowing that he was the cause of her sadness.

"Don't be, Fayt. When you and Albel were walking down the tunnel that eventually connects to this room, I heard your thoughts about going back to the realm of the living. I called out to you, desperately hoping that you would hear me and listen. Thank God that you heard me, or else I'd be stuck down here forever. There is a way for me to return to my normal self, and that is by fusing our souls together. I've already done this, so all you have to do is get us through the portal, where I will be able to reenter my body and become myself again. Don't you see, Fayt? Everything can be set right again!" the small girl exclaimed, making Fayt smile slightly.

"Don't worry, Sophia," he whispered, "I won't let you down." Fayt opened his eyes to see Albel staring down at him curiously.

"That's the third time you've fainted," he commented, watching as he teenager got to his feet.

"Thanks for keeping score. I appreciate it," Fayt responded sarcastically, bringing an amused smile to Albel's face.

"No problem. Now, shall we get the hell out of this thrice cursed place or is there another small detour you would like to take?"

"Detour? Didn't you see Sophia?" Fayt asked, receiving a blank stare from Albel.

"I saw something that resembled the form of a human, nothing more. Though if you say it was Sophia, then I'd have to say that the Underworld did some good for her. She's much easier to look at now…" Albel replied, his voice full of amusement as he watched Fayt glare at him.

"Okay, very funny. Let's get going," the teenager said curtly as he turned around to walk back to the portal.

* * *

Once again Fayt found himself facing the circular portal with Albel standing closely next to him. The blue haired boy took a deep breath before asking, "Do we just…walk through?" Albel shrugged in reply, and Fayt began to walk towards the glowing circle, knowing Albel was close behind him. 

Fayt felt pinpricks of warmth on his face, and gasped when his whole body was suddenly flooded with heat. The teenager felt Sophia detach herself from his soul, the emptiness she left behind quickly replaced by the warmth that was almost becoming unbearable. When Fayt felt he could take no more of the soon becoming painful heat, he opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, and as he gave his eyes time to adjust, he noticed that he was staring at what seemed to be a wooden ceiling. No stone walls…

Fayt sat up quickly and almost fell back over when the room began to spin. Suddenly there was a loud shout, and then more noise followed as people rushed to his side, friendly hands helping him to his feet and patting him on the back. Cliff, Nel, Maria, Mirage … they were all there, waiting for him. He had done it. He was alive again. He was home. Fayt looked over expecting to find Albel in the same situation he was in, but didn't see him.

"Albel?" he whispered, looking back down to the floor, his joy at being alive again quickly shattered by the sight of Albel's still lifeless body.

* * *

Albel quickly followed Fayt through the portal as soon as the small boy's form disappeared into the glowing light. As soon as he reached the portal, however, he found to his dismay that it was blocked by something, denying him access to the living world. The portal darkened and began to swirl, dark, weaving patterns being formed that reminded Albel of one swirling a glass of wine before placing it on the table to settle. The patterns began to slow as something stepped through the portal, and as Albel quickly drew his katana he watched as the thing began to take shape. 

A small girl stood before Albel, staring up at him without fear. The swordsman quickly sheathed the Crimson Scourge and gazed quizzically at the girl, noticing that while she didn't look like anybody he knew, he recognized her from somewhere… It struck him that who she reminded him of was himself. She had the same blood red eyes that he had, full of suspect and grief.

"Who are you?" the swordsman asked, watching as the small girl walked towards him.

"My name is Shimeru. I am the daughter of Aritomo and Hakari Nox," the girl stopped walking to stand in front of Albel, who was still wary of her. "My mother's last name was Eichi. We are cousins, Albel." Albel felt his heart skip a beat as he searched his memory for any proof to back up what she was saying. His mother had mentioned an aunt once or twice, her sister, but this was the first time that he had heard anything about a cousin. Albel focused once again on the small girl.

"I have been dead for many years now. I came here not to bore you with my life's story, but to tell you that I know of the illness that took your mother's life. The same illness took my life, though I never suffered from the disease.

"When I was eight, I heard of an Aunt Kacelia who was going to die soon. My mother was dying of the very same disease. It's in our blood, Albel. The disease that killed your mother was passed to you even as she bore you in her womb. Before I died, I had been practicing Runology. My biological father wasn't Aritomo Nox, but a runologist from Aquios who visited Airyglyph during peaceful times. I inherited some of his skills, and spent months trying to come up with a cure for this disease. At last I finally found the cure, but before I could find you and your mother to heal you, my life was ended by my own mother, driven to insanity by her paranoia.

"I failed you on that day, but Apris has given us another chance. A few days ago, I stumbled upon a portal that took me to the living realm, only to find the very cousin I had failed so many years before. I have already chased the illness out of your blood, but now I must be allowed to cleanse your mind. Those months I was searching for the cure left me dumbfounded because although I had cured my body, the disease was still present. I couldn't figure out how my body could be completely healed, and yet I was still sick. I finally realized that not only does the disease inhabit our body, but our minds as well. It's more like a curse, really, though its origin I wasn't able to uncover." The girl paused for breath, giving Albel time to try and makes sense of what he'd been told. "I don't wish to take up much more of your time. I'm sure you would much rather be alive again and with those you love. So, please, if you will allow it I will heal you quickly and then be gone soon enough." Albel stared at the remarkable young girl and nodded. Shimeru smiled and walked closer to Albel, motioning for him to kneel down. The swordsman did so and felt her cool palm on his forehead.

Blue light swirled around the two of them as Shimeru used Runology to cleanse Albel's soul of the curse that had been placed on the Eichi family line generations ago. Albel could feel the Runology spreading throughout his soul as Shimeru searched for the curse. Albel closed his eyes tightly when a sharp, stinging pain forged its way through his spirit. When the pain ebbed, Albel opened his eyes again to find that the girl had vanished. The swordsman stood up and stretched, noticing that he didn't feel any different. Albel turned back to the portal, wondering if maybe he had imagined the small spirit who claimed to be his cousin. Suddenly remembering her crimson eyes, so like his own, Albel knew that she had been real.

* * *

Albel slowly opened his eyes, his vision swirling in front of him as he struggled to keep his eyes open. 

"Albel?" the swordsman heard Fayt ask uncertainly, then looked to his right to see the young boy kneeling over him. Albel sat up and looked around the room, familiar faces staring back at him.

"It's nice to see that you're safe, Albel," Mirage offered, extending her hand to help the swordsman to his feet.

"Bah," Albel mumbled, ignoring Mirage's proffered hand as he climbed to his feet on his own. Fayt stood up next to him and listened to the clamor that had risen around him; Maria asking if he was alright, Mirage asking what had happened, and Nel standing off to the side as she added her comments every now and then. The only two he didn't see were Cliff and Sophia.

"Where's Sophia?" Fayt asked, remembering how he had met up with her in the Underworld. Mirage and Maria abruptly stopped talking and everyone turned around to find that Sophia was lying on the ground toward the back of the room. The attention turned from Fayt to Sophia as everyone gathered around the young girl, all, that is, with the exception of Cliff and Albel, the latter looking on with mild interest.

"What the hell happened?" Cliff asked Albel, the swordsman switching his gaze to the Klausian.

"What do you mean?" Albel asked innocently, raising an eyebrow as he stared at the short tempered man.

"You know what I mean," Cliff growled, digging his nails into the palms of his hands as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"And why should I tell you?" Albel inquired, apparently amused by Cliff's anger. "Or perhaps," the swordsman continued when the Klausian said nothing, "you're just jealous because Fayt abandoned you for one such as I?" Cliff glared heatedly at Albel as the swordsman was speaking, blood dripping onto the floor from where his fingernails broke the skin on his palms. As soon as Cliff heard Albel's last words and saw the smug look on his face, he lost all control as he pulled his fist back and, in one swift motion, cracked his knuckles against Albel's jaw. The force of Cliff's punch sent the swordsman crashing into the wall that was a few feet behind him.

"That felt good," Cliff said cheerfully as he watched Albel wipe blood away from his mouth. Albel stood up and gripped the hilt of his katana as Cliff readied himself for a fight. By now the other occupants of the room had once again switched their attention, this time to the progressing fight.

"Stop!" Fayt yelled as he saw the two ready themselves for battle, running to stand in front of Albel. "Cliff, what the hell are you doing?" the teenager snarled angrily.

"What do you mean what the hell am I doing? He's the one who got you killed!" Cliff retorted, confused when he saw Fayt's strong reaction.

"Who told you that?" Fayt asked, dropping his glare. Cliff's eyes widened as he realized that he had just assumed that Albel had had a part in Fayt's death.

"Well, nobody, really…I just…" the Klausian stammered, realizing how brash he had been.

Albel moved out from behind Fayt and walked to the door. Opening it he said, "As you all can see, Fayt and I are both perfectly fine. You may leave." Everyone stared at Albel before sounds of protest could be heard throughout the room. Albel listened for a moment before losing all of what little patience he had. "Get the hell out," he snarled, silencing the room at once before Nel walked out, knowing that things would get bloody if Albel the Wicked didn't get what he wanted. Cliff walked over to Sophia, who was still on the floor, and picked her up gently before walking over to the door, glaring at Albel before he left as well. Mirage and Maria followed, and not before long everybody but Albel and Fayt were left.

"Albel, they were worried about us. You didn't have to kick them out," Fayt protested, watching as the swordsman rinsed his mouth out with water from the pitcher, the water that he spit back into the basin having a red tint to it.

"For what I plan to do shortly, I did," Albel replied matter-of-factly, marveling at the way it shut the teenager up. The swordsman put a finger to his face where Cliff had hit him and put pressure on it, wincing as pain shot up his jaw. The man may be daft, but he could throw one hell of a punch. Albel walked to where he had discarded the Crimson Scourge, his claw and his sack what seemed like an eternity ago and began to look through his sack for something. He pulled out a jar and set it on the table, opening it with on flick of his wrist and dipping two fingers into what Fayt assumed to be a healing salve. The swordsman brought the thick substance out and spread it evenly on his jaw, feeling the salve begin to work as warmth truckled up his jaw line. Albel rubbed the leftover healing salve between his thumb and index finger curiously before glancing over to Fayt, a hungry gleam in his eyes.

Fayt gulped and backed away from Albel as the swordsman stalked closer. Those crimson eyes gazed at him so intently he felt like a mouse cornered by a starving cat. The teenager backed up as far as he could until his back hit the wall, trying to swallow down the slight fear rising in his stomach. Albel was soon standing closely in front of Fayt, staring down into the boy's already flushed face.

"Wait, Albel!" Fayt pleaded, looking directly into Albel's crimson eyes.

"Wait?" the swordsman repeated, taking a few steps away from Fayt. Had he been wrong? Did Fayt not feel anything for him after all?

"Why?" Fayt asked, sounding a little embarrassed.

"Why what?" Albel bit back, his voice full of anger, though he was merely trying to cover up the crushing disappointment he felt.

"Why me?" Fayt whispered. He knew what this meant to him, but what did it mean to Albel?

Albel went rigid, remembering his mother's words, and yet finding that he wasn't able to say those three words that he knew Fayt desperately wanted to hear. Instead, he sighed and lowered his head, second guessing all of the decisions he had made up until this point.

"You want to know why?" Albel asked, his voice quiet yet unwavering, "I thought that would be painfully obvious by now."

"What do you mean?" Fayt wondered out loud. Albel looked up to Fayt and shook his head, sighing. The kid sure could be oblivious, at times.

"Apparently I'd rather kill myself than live a life without you, fool," Albel growled, hating how he practically had to spell things out for the teenager. Fayt stared blankly at Albel for a few moments, realizing that no matter how badly he wanted to say it, Albel would never be able to say the simple phrase 'I love you'.

Fayt smiled at Albel as he pushed himself away from the wall, walking to stand in front of the swordsman. The teenager wrapped Albel's arms around his waist as he leaned into the older man, hearing the swordsman's breath catch in his throat.

"I understand…" Fayt whispered, "…and I love you too, Albel," the teenager finished, standing on his toes as he whispered the last part in the swordsman's ear. Albel pulled Fayt back in front of him and stared into his eyes, pure understanding shining in his bright green orbs.

"Tch." Albel smirked before pulling Fayt closely to him, his arms still wrapped loosely around Fayt's lower back.

Fayt grew impatient and, standing on his toes again, pushed his lips against Albel's, surprising the swordsman for a moment before the older man lowered Fayt to his feet again. The swordsman felt pressure building in his chest, threatening to burst, those sweet lips touching his own creating a spark of excitement through him. It was difficult, but he quickly reigned in his mounting passion. This time would be different than the others he had had before. This time it would mean something.

Albel softly caressed Fayt's lips with his own and breathed in deeply, smells of the sun and clean air calming him. The two men stood like this for a moment, reveling in each other's warmth and presence before Albel slowly leaned against Fayt, forcing the younger man to lean up against the wall as he broke their chaste kiss. The swordsman moved his mouth to where the teenager's neck joined with his jaw, pushing his lips against the beating pulse he could feel beneath Fayt's soft skin. He began to nibble and lick at the soft skin, leaving his own possessive mark. Fayt was his, and he'd be damned before he let anyone else have him.

The teenager leaned heavily against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut and small moans escaping involuntarily at Albel's actions. He wondered how such a simple thing could feel so good, his heart beating faster, his breath coming quicker. He thought of the absurdity of it all. Albel the Wicked, here, with him now, in a small tavern room with only a sense of each other, their warmth, how close their bodies are…

Fayt's thoughts were cut short by the older man's hands, which had quickly unzipped his vest and were now roaming unchecked over the teenager's pale skin. Fayt gasped, red heat pulsing behind his eyelids as Albel slid his hands up and down his slender chest and waist. Albel was floored by the boy's untouched beauty, his pale skin practically glowing in the moonlight. The younger man shrugged the vest off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor behind him, and lifted his arms to slide his hands underneath the swordsman's tight shirt, feeling already heated skin underneath his probing fingers.

Albel groaned when he felt Fayt's hands on him. Dear gods, the boy wasn't even doing anything overtly erotic, just stroking lightly at his skin, massaging the tight muscles of his back, and it was driving Albel mad. Fayt's hesitant, untrained motions were more intriguing and arousing than anything he'd ever felt before. He couldn't stand it, the new feelings rushing up inside of him, that quiet love he had only barely admitted surging towards the surface. It still wasn't enough.

Fayt gasped slightly when Albel kissed him roughly, bruising their lips before, almost apologetically, parting the teenager's lips with his tongue. The slick muscle plunged into his mouth, darting, exploring, claiming, and Fayt was left breathless. It was as if Albel was seeking to join their souls through their mouths, his hands gripping Fayt's hips tightly as if the boy might escape.

The younger man groaned into the swordsman's mouth, pulling absentmindedly at the edge of Albel's shirt. He needed more. He had to feel more of Albel against him. When the swordsman ignored him to continue claiming his mouth, he bit lightly at his tongue to get his attention. It didn't have the affect he wanted, though, as Albel growled, gripping Fayt's hips tighter and beginning to pull him closer.

Fayt nearly lost his mind as Albel renewed his assault with more vigor than before. He could barely breathe, he was wound so tightly. Remembering his objective after a moment, though, he bit down again harder, tasting a slight tang of copper in his mouth. Albel pulled back with a slight scowl.

"What is it, Leingod?" he asked petulantly. Fayt tugged on the bottom of Albel's shirt again.

I want to see you," he stated quietly, pleased at the shock closely followed by blatant hunger displayed on Albel's face.

When the swordsman heard those soft words come out of Fayt's mouth, he nearly lost all coherency to his mounting lust. Fayt wanted him. And that knowledge awakened a joy deep inside of him that he hadn't even thought he could feel anymore.

With a look of almost wonder in his eyes, Albel allowed Fayt to pull his shirt over his head, quickly closing the distance that had been created between them as the teenager threw the shirt over Albel's shoulder. Fayt gasped as he felt Albel's bare skin against his, his eyes clenching shut, their bodies pressed so intimately closely together that he could feel the swordsman's racing heartbeat against his chest. The pleasure was mind blowing. It was so hot and good and right.

The older man's scorching tongue trailed down the side of Fayt's neck. Fayt whimpered at the sensation, throwing his head back to give more access, and Albel smirked. He loved it, loved having this power of the boy, loved giving him this pleasure, loved the honest and passionate responses he got. He ran his callused hands down the teenager's sides, noticing the hitch in Fayt's breath. He finally brought his hands around Fayt's hips, where they paused at the buckle to his belt.

Fayt groaned when the older man paused, the now all too visible bulge in his pants begging to be set free. He opened his eyes, wondering at the halt. Those eyes widened in surprise when he could see the question looming in Albel's eyes, Is this all right?

"Don't stop," Fayt gasped out, closing his eyes again and letting his head fall back against the wall.  
Albel chuckled deeply in his throat and undid the buckle, the teenager's baggy pants falling to the floor. Fayt gasped as the air hit his skin, noticing for the first time how cold the night had become.

* * *

The sun had just barely begun to rise over the horizon when Albel woke, not yet opening his eyes as if half afraid that the previous night had just been imagined. The strictly trained soldier in him demanded him to get up and prepare for the day, but the warmth of the bed told him otherwise. Albel took a deep breath and let it out slowly, wishing he could fall back asleep but knowing he couldn't. Albel finally opened his eyes and glanced down to the right of him, seeing Fayt's small figure curled up next to him. The swordsman wrapped his arm around the teenager's shoulders and pulled the sleeping boy closer to him, feeling the heat intensify as Fayt's body warmth was added to his. Albel held his breath as he stared into Fayt's sleeping face, the curve of his mouth, the delicate cheekbones that made him look almost childish. Though when he was angry, he looked anything but. Albel smirked at the thought. Albel lifted his arm up as Fayt snuggled closer to him, unconsciously moving towards the swordsman's warmth. Albel let his breath out when he realized he'd been holding it and felt his heartbeat increase as he felt more of Fayt's bare skin against his. Albel laid his head back down, knowing that he should get up, but felt compelled to stay where he was. The swordsman leaned back into the pillow and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep. 

After a few moments, Albel knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep, so he delicately sat up and moved away from Fayt, trying his hardest not to wake the boy. The swordsman pulled his skirt on and watched Fayt sleep for a moment before, on a whim, bending over and kissing him lightly on the cheek. Fayt stirred slightly and then cracked open his eyes.

"'bel?" he slurred, having just been woken up. Albel bent back over the bed and kissed him again, this time on the lips before moving his mouth over Fayt's ear.

"Go back to sleep," the swordsman whispered, "It's only just dawn."

"Alright," Fayt said, a smile creeping over his face before sleep once again clouded his vision, "Love you, Albel," and, needing no further encouragement, turned back onto his side and promptly fell asleep. The swordsman looked to the floor and found a clean blanket that had been tossed carelessly aside the night before, and bent over to pick it up before draping it over the teenager's sleeping form.

Albel walked to the door and opened it, grabbing a maid by the shoulder as she walked down the hallway. The woman almost cried out in alarm, but wasn't able to as Albel put his hand over her mouth, as if he had expected it.

"Bring some warm water for the bath," he said gruffly before letting her go. The woman nodded and shuffled down the hallway.

Albel walked back to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, staring at nothing in particular when a thought struck him, leaving him cold. Fayt loved him. Albel looked back to Fayt's face, realizing how it never really occurred to him. Yes, Fayt had said it before, but the moment had been fevered, almost rushed during their mounting passion. Now, as he sat calmly on the edge of the bed, Albel began to realize exactly what this meant.

A small knock at the door signaled that the maid had returned, and Albel angrily switched his gaze to the door, annoyed at having his thoughts interrupted. Albel quietly opened the door and looked down, seeing two young girls instead of the older woman from before. They were each carrying two buckets of steaming water, and as Albel stepped aside to allow them entrance, he noticed that they were both blushing. He still hadn't bothered to put a shirt on. The swordsman watched as both girls glanced towards the bed, their blush deepening as they noticed Fayt's bare shoulder and side showing from underneath the blanket. Albel smirked as he observed the quickening haste in which they dumped the steaming buckets of water into the small tub. Apparently they were in a hurry.

Albel watched them leave with mild interest, watched them as they walked down the hallway quickly, whispering excitedly to one another. The swordsman shut the door and walked into the bathroom, taking his skirt off once again as he stepped into the warm water, relief flooding throughout Albel's tired muscles as he immersed himself in the water. The warmth enveloped him and seemed to loosen the knots in his muscles, to calm him from the thoughts that were raging inside of his mind.

Albel watched the steam as it curled up from the tub, his thoughts wandering. Why did Fayt love him? There couldn't possibly be a reason, it all seemed like madness. When Albel had been traveling with Fayt and his companions, he had been cold and distant. Even when he had begun to feel emotions for the teenager, Albel had always thought the younger man to be beyond his reach. The boy was too good, too pure, and too kind for someone like him, for someone like Albel the Wicked. And now, Fayt was saying he loved Albel. It was all too much.

As if in a daze, Albel pulled himself from the quickly cooling water and dried himself with the towel that one of the girls had left for him. The swordsman pulled on his skirt and shirt as he walked out of the bathroom, picking up the Crimson Scourge before leaving the room. Albel walked out of the building and headed towards the small copse of trees that was to the left of the tavern.

Albel slowly drew the Crimson Scourge from its sheath, feeling the familiar weight in his right arm. The katana hummed its song, a song full of bloodlust, death and many battles fought. The Crimson Scourge would never change, its song fixed. The swordsman centered himself on the sword, on his surroundings. Breathing quietly through his mouth, Albel sliced the sword through the air as he began training, once again trying to focus himself.

* * *

A/N wrap-up: So, yeah. I'll hopefully finish chapter 15 for a New Year's present. No, I'll struggle to. Sophomore year sucks, man… 


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